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STUDIES 

IN 

LANGUAGE  AND  LITERATURE 

IN  CELEBRATION  OF 

THE  SEVENTIETH  BIRTHDAY 

OF 

JAMES  MORGAN  HART 

NOVEMBER  2,  1909 


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NEW  YORK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

1910 


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THE   WAVERLY   PRESS 
BALTIMORE 


0<^ 


TO 


JAMES  MORGAN  HART,  A.M.,  J.U.D.,  Litt.D. 

PROFESSOR   OF  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE   AND   LITERATURE, 
EMERITUS,   IN  CORNELL  UNIVERSITY 


WITH   THE   GRATITUDE   AND   AFFECTION 
OF     HIS    STUDENTS 


EDITORIAL   COMMITTEE 


Clark  Sutherland  Northup 

Martin  Wright  Sampson 

William  Strunk,  Jr. 

Frank  Thilly 


CONTENTS 

Thomas  Forde's  Love's  Labyrinth. 

By  Joseph  Qtjincy  Adams,  Jk.,  Ph.D.,  Assistant 
Professor  of  the  English  Language  and  Literature 
in  Cornell  University 9 

George  Meredith  in  America. 

By  Elmer  James  Bailey,  Ph.D.,  Instructor  in 
English  in  Cornell  University 43 

An  Elementary  Course  in  Old  English. 

By  Alma  Blount,  Ph.D.,  Instructor  in  English  in 
the  Michigan  State  Normal  College 65 

The  Power  of  the  Eye  in  Coleridge. 

By  Lane  Cooper,  Ph.D.,  Assistant  Professor  of 
the  English  Language  and  Literature  in  Cornell 
University 78 

A  Middle- Irish  Fragment  of  Bede's  Eccle- 
siastical History. 

By  Edward  Godfrey  Cox,  Ph.D.,  Instructor  in 
English  in  Cornell  University 122 

Some   Scottish    Influences   on  Eighteenth 
Century  Literature. 

By  Albert  Davis,  Ph.D.,  Late  Instructor  in 
English  in  Dartmouth  College 179 

A  New  Note  on  the   Date  of   Chaucer's 

Knight's  Tale. 
By  Oliver   Farrar   Emerson,  Ph.D.,    Oviatt 
Professor  of  English  in  Western  Reserve  Uni- 
versity    203 

v 


Old     English     Modification    of    Teutonic 
Racial  Conceptions. 

By  Christabel  Forstthe  Fiske,  Ph.D.,  Assis- 
tant Professor  of  English  in  Vassar  College 255 

English  and  the  Law. 

By  Herbert  Latham  Fordham,  Ph.B.,  LL.B., 

of  the  New  York  Bar 295 

An  Index  to   the   Non-Biblical   Names  in 

the  English  Mystery  Plays. 
By  Antoinette  Greene,  Ph.D.,  Associate  Pro- 
fessor of  English  in  Elmira  College 313 

Alfred  the  Great  in  Popular  Tradition. 

By  George  Harley  McKnight,  Ph.D.,  Professor 
of  English  in  Ohio  State  University 351 

The  Celtic  Rite  in  Britain. 

By  Mary  Aloysia  Molloy,  Ph.D.,  Assistant 
Principal  of  Winona  Seminary 366 

Textual  Notes  on  Layamon. 

By  Benton  Sullivan  Monroe,  Ph.D.,  Instruc- 
tor in  English  in  Cornell  University 377 

Addison  and  Gray  as  Travelers. 

By  Clark  Sutherland  Northup,  Ph.D.,  Assis- 
tant Professor  of  the  English  Language  and  Liter- 
ature in  Cornell  University 390 

The  Plays  of  Edward  Sharpham. 

By  Martin  Wright  Sampson,  M.A.,  Professor  of 
English  in  Cornell  University 440 

A  Note  on  the  Verse  Structure  of  Carew. 

By  Charles  Jacob  Sembower,  Ph.D.,  Professor 

of  English  in  Indiana  University 456 

The  Importance  of  the  Ghost  in  Hamlet. 

By  William  Strunk,  Jr.,  Ph.D.,  Professor  of 
English  in  Cornell  University 467 

Contemporary  American  Philosophy. 

By  Frank  Thilly,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of 
Philosophy  in  Cornell  University 486 

vi 


THOMAS  FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH 

BY  JOSEPH  QUINCY  ADAMS,  JR.,  PH.D. 

Thomas  Forde 

Of  Thomas  Forde  little  is  known1  save  what 
may  be  gleaned  from  his  printed  works,  pri- 
marily his  Fenestra  in  Pectore  (1660),  a  col- 
lection of  one  hundred  and  two  "  familiar  let- 
ters" addressed  to  his  friends.  In  his  epistle 
to  the  reader  he  explains:  "I  call  this  Packet 
of  Letters  Fenestra  in  Pectore;  Letters  being  the 
best  Casements,  whereby  men  disclose  them- 
selves. Judicium  super  Brachium,  say  the  Phy- 
sicians, and  I  know  no  better  Interpreter  of  the 
Heart,  than  the  hand;  especially  in  Familiar 
Letters,  whereby  friends  mingle  souls,  and  make 
mutual  discoveries  of,  and  to  one  another."  It 
is  true  that  the  letters  give  us  a  good  glimpse 
into  Forde's  "soul,"  yet  they  give  us  few  glimp- 
ses into  his  life.  I  shall  try,  nevertheless,  to 
put  together  all  the  biographical  facts  that  a 

1  A  brief  biographical  note  by  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  is  given  in 
The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography, 


2  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

study  of  these  letters,  and  of  his  other  works,2 
has  yielded. 

He  was  "  something  related"  to  John  Udal, 
the  well-known  Puritan,  although,  he  takes  care 
to  inform  us,  he  was  "no  heir  to  his  opinions"* 
In  1650,  or  thereabout,  both  of  his  parents 
were  living:4  he  had  no  brother,5  and,  so  far  as 
we  may  judge,  no  sisters.  In  a  letter  to  L.C.L. 
(p.  53)  he  tells  us  that  he  had  never  married, 
and  in  his  subsequent  letters  (which  extend 
beyond  1657),  he  gives  no  evidence  of  having 
"won  a  second-self."  When  we  first  see  him, 
about  1647,  he  is  residing  in  London,  and  seems 
to  be  connected  in  some  way  with  the  publish- 
ing trade:  his  "home"  is  "in  the  Church- 
yard."6 In  the  British  Museum  copy  of  The 
Times  Anatomized  in  several  characters,  byT.  F., 
London,  Printed  for  W.  L.,  1647,  an  early  manu- 
script note  describes  the  author  as  "T.  Ford, 
servant  to  Mr.  Sam  Man."7  The  authenticity 
of  this  note  is  attested  by  certain  letters  in  Fenes- 
tra in  Pectore:  in  a  communication  to  "W.  L." 
(=  William  Leybourne,  the  printer)8  Forde 
discusses  the  advisability  of  reprinting  "my 
characters";  moreover,  he  addresses  with  great 

2 1  have  not  been  able  to  see  The  Times  Anatomized,  Lusus 
Forlunce,  or  A  Theatre  of  Wits. 
3  Foenestra,  pp.  135-6. 
*  Ibid.,  p.  22. 
6  Ibid.,  p.  51. 

6  Ibid.,  p.  50. 

7  See  the  Catalogue  of  the  British  Museum. 

8  Foenestra,  p.  91. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  3 

respect  two  letters  to  "Mr.  S.  M."9  This  person, 
doubtless,  was  Samuel  Man,  a  bookseller  in 
London  from  1616-74,  who  had  his  shop  in 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard.  In  1643  and  1644 
he  was  Warden  of  the  Company  of  Stationers, 
and  in  1646,  1654,  and  1658  he  was  Master.10 
Probably  Forde's  connection  with  Man's  book- 
shop explains  the  fact  that  he  was  so  widely 
read  in  classical  and  modern  literatures.  To  one 
of  his  friends  he  writes:  "I  have  read,  that  one 
Philostratus  lived  seven  yearesinhis  Tomb,  to 
acquaint  himself  with  Death.  Truly,  I  have 
conversed  above  two  seven  years11  among  the 
Dead,  for  so  are  our  Authors  esteemed;  and 
indeed,  our  Shops  may  not  unfitly  be  resembled 
to  a  Charnel-house:  and  there,  and  thus,  have 
I  gotten  such  a  familiaritie  with  those  faithful 
and  unflattering  Counsellours."12  And  in  pre- 
senting "Mr.  S.  M."  with  one  of  his  publica- 
tions (Lusus  Fortunes?)  he  writes:  "I  have,  at 
length,  presumed  this  into  your  presence :  The 

9  Ibid.,  pp.  40,  76.  The  letter  on  p.  16  "To  Mr.  S.  M. 
at  Barbadoes"  was,  obviously,  addressed  to  another  person, 
apparently  a  young  man,  to  whom  Forde  gives  much  whole- 
some advice. 

10  See  Henry  R.  Plomer,  A  Dictionary  of  the  Booksellers 
and  Printers  1641-1667  (The  Publications  of  the  Biblio- 
graphical Society,  1907). 

11  If  this  means  that  Forde  had  worked  in  a  book-shop 
for  fourteen  years,  and  if  he  began  work  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
one,  then  he  must  have  been  born  in  1613-15. 

12  Fcenestra,  p.  79. 


4  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

rather,  because  I  do  hereby  but  return  you  the 
Hony,  made  from  the  various  flowers  of  your 
own  garden ;  where,  I  hope,  I  have  not  (as  some 
that  do,  Spinas  librorum  colligere)  weeded  books; 
but  crop't  their  blossomes,  and  yet  left  never 
the  less  behind."13  Forde  was  well-versed  in 
the  Latin  authors,  knew  some  Greek,  and  quotes 
frequently  from  the  Italian.  The  avidity  with 
which  he  read  is  shown  clearly  in  his  corre- 
spondence, for  he  is  constantly  borrowing  or 
returning  books. 

From  his  letters,  it  is  obvious  that  Forde  was 
the  author  of  a  number  of  pamphlets  which  have 
not  been  identified,  if  indeed  they  have  been 
preserved.14  On  his  title-pages  he  commonly 
used  his  initials  instead  of  his  full  name,  a  prac- 
tice which  one  of  his  friends  complained  of, 
and  which  he  defended  as  follows:15  "Now,  to 
your  Why,  let  me  return  a  Wherefore  I  have 
(to  use  your  expression,  and  who  can  use  bet- 
ter) masked  my  self  under  the  single  letters  of 
T.  F.  that  being  unknown,  I  might  more  freely 
hear  the  worlds  censure.  I  remember  a  face- 
tious tale  of  a  Frenchman,  that  had  printed 
much,  concealing  his  own  name:  One  asking 
a  man  that  brought  his  Copies  to  the  press, 
Who  the  Author  was  ?  He  said,  'Twas  one  that 

13  Ibid.,  p.  41. 

14  Ibid.,  pp.  40,  46,  60,  61,  62,  66,  68,  82,  89,  100,  102,  120, 
140. 

16  Ibid.,  p.  72. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  5 

desired  to  serve  God  invisibly,"  Among  other 
"pamphlets"  he  clearly  seems  to  refer  to  a  vol- 
ume of  letters:  "I  have  sent  you  a  Pamphlet, 
that  may  serve  as  a  foyl  to  set  off  Balzack 
[which,  having  borrowed,  he  is  now  returning] 
the  better:  Wherein  expect  neither  Cicero  nor 
Seneca:  neither  Howel  nor  Balzack;  neither 
Learning  nor  Language;  nor  any  Letters  begin- 
ning with  the  ambitious  title  of  My  Lord,  or 
Madam;  they  are  more  proud  of  the  name  of 
Friend."16  And  to  another  correspondent  he 
writes:17  "If  you  think  the  Frontispiece  dis- 
crepant to  the  following  leaves,  I  shall  conform 
the  printed  Title  to  the  written  Book,  not  the 
written  Book  to  the  printed  Title :  For  I  resolve 
not  to  change  their  name,  nor  alter  their  prop- 
ertie  of  Familiar  Letters,  for  my  private 
friends  "n  Another  pamphlet  seems  to  have 
been  on  the  subject  of  Friendship.19 

In  several  places  Forde  tells  us  that  he  was 
poor.20  Yet  in  a  certain  "Mr.  T.  P."  he  found 
a  "Meccenus"  whose  generosity  was  "a  miracle 
in  this  Age,"  and  who  frequently  "cast  coyn" 
"into  a  shallow  Forde."21  Later  Forde  culti- 
vated the  friendship  of  another  wealthy  gen- 

18  Ibid.,  p.  89. 

17  Ibid.,  p.  94. 

18  Cf.  also  pp.  65,  66. 

19  Ibid.,  p.  154. 

20  Ibid.,  pp.  64,  67. 

21  Ibid.,  pp.  67,  93,  95,  103,  120. 


6  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

tleman,  "Mr.  D.  P.,"  with  such  "frequent 
visits"  that  "detracting  tongues"  made  of  it 
"scandal,  as  well  as  slander."  In  defending 
himself  Forde  wrote  to  "Mr.  D.P.":  "Twasnot 
your  fortune,  but  your  favour,  that  I  have  court- 
ed; were  you  as  poor  as  Codrus,  I  should  love 
you  no  less  than  I  do;  and  were  you  as  rich  as 
Croesus,  I  could  love  you  no  more.  I  conceived 
myself  obliged  by  my  Profession  to  wait  upon 
you  as  a  Scholar."22 

Forde  was  a  staunch,  even  a  pious  royalist, 
and  most  of  his  friends  seem  to  have  been  of  the 
same  faith.  His  best  friend  was  Edward  Bar- 
wick,  whom  he  affectionately  addresses  as 
"Honest  Ned."23  I  have  identified  him  as,  in 
all  probability,  Edward,  the  younger  brother  of 
John  Barwick  (1612-1664)  the  staunch  royalist 
who  for  his  services  to  the  crown  was  made  Dean 
of  St.  Paul's;  and  of  Peter  Barwick  (1619- 
1705),  Physician  in  Ordinary  to  King  Charles 
II.  The  parents  of  the  Barwicks,  although  they 
sent  John  and  Peter  to  the  university,  were 
unable  to  educate  their  other  sons  so  well; 
yet  Edward  was  able  to  assist  his  older  brothers 

22  Ibid.,  pp.  113,  116. 

23  The  identification  of  the  "E.  B."  of  Forde's  letters  as 
Edward  Barwick  is  made  positive  by  the  anagram  (Fcenestra, 
p.  38)  "Bad,  wicked  warr.  Anagr.,"  and  by  the  signature 
"Edw.  Barwick"  affixed  to  the  commendatory  verse  in 
Love's  Labyrinth.  To  him  Forde  addressed  nine  letters 
{Fcenestra,  pp.  25,  29,  34,  38,  49,  55,  61,  64,  89),  and  he  refers 
to  him  in  several  other  letters. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  7 

in  the  management  of  the  King's  correspon- 
dence.24 This  perhaps  explains  why,  as  we 
learn  in  Forde's  letters,  he  was  imprisoned  and 
for  a  time  in  grave  danger  of  losing  his  life. 
Another  close  friend  was  C.  F.  [Flower],  a 
clergyman.25  The  friend  addressed  as  "W.  L." 
("Will")  was,  undoubtedly,  William  Ley- 
bourne,  the  printer  and  well-known  author 
of  books  on  mathematics.26  The  "J.  H." 
("Honest  Jack")  to  whom  Forde  addresses  five 
letters,  has  been  identified  as  James  Howell.27 
Other  identifications  of  Forde's  friends  might 
be  made,  yet  these  seem  representative. 

Shortly  after  the  execution  of  King  Charles, 
Forde  left  London.  It  seems  possible,  both 
from  the  nature  of  his  subsequent  letters,28  and 
from  the  great  amount  of  sacred  verse  in  his 
Fragmenta  Poetica,  that  he  became  a  clergy- 
man. For  a  time,  at  least,  he  was  living  "near 
Maldon"  in  Essex.    During  his  residence  there 

24  Edward  Barwick  is  not  entered  in  the  D.  N.  B.,  but  see 
under  "John  Barwick." 

25  To  "C.  F."  Forde  addressed  twelve  letters,  (Fenestra, 
pp.  6,  27,  35,  42,  51,  54,  58,  62,  99,  109, 121.  127),  and  he  refers 
to  him  in  several  other  letters  (Ibid.,  pp.  15,  32,  etc.). 

26  Fenestra,  pp.  46,  65,  84,  91. 

27  Ibid.,  pp.  66, 69, 77, 79, 85.  Although  this  identification  is 
assumed  by  writers  on  James  Howell,  I  can  discover  no  real 
evidence  that  supports  it.  Mr.  Joseph  Jacobs,  in  his  excel- 
lent edition  of  Howell's  Epistolce  Ho-Eliance  (vol.  ii,  p.  686), 
quotes  one  of  Forde's  letters:  apparently  he  was  not  aware 
of  the  others. 

28  Fenestra,  pp.  127,  130,  133,  138,  145. 


8  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

he  addressed  an  interesting  letter  to  Thomas 
Fuller.  Since  the  opportunity  of  writing  on 
Forde  is  rare,  and  since,  to  use  our  author's 
phrase,  "Letters"  are  "the  best  Casements, 
whereby  men  disclose  themselves,"  I  reprint 
this  letter  to  give  the  reader  a  glimpse  into 
Forde's  "breast."  It  is,  I  may  add,  the  most 
interesting  of  the  letters,  and  contains  the  larg- 
est number  of  biographical  facts. 

To  Mr.  T.  F. 
Sir, 

Having  lately  (not  without  pleasure  and  profit) 
read  your  Church-History;  by  which,  you  have  not 
only  indebted  our  Church  in  particular,  but  the  whole 
Common- wealth  of  Learning  in  general;  my  memory 
continually  upbraided  me  with  ingratitude,  till  I 
found  out  this  way  to  convey  my  resentments. 
For,  though  our  Returns  of  thanks  ought  to  be  large 
and  universal,  as  your  merit,  yet  your  goodness  (I 
hope)  will  not  refuse  the  single  gratitude  of  private 
persons.  In  that  number  (though  the  last,  and  the 
least)  I  am  bold  to  tender  my  mite.  A  task  indeed 
better  befitting  a  more  equal  pen,  since  none  is  able 
to  do  it  but  your  own.  But  I  know  your  modesty 
is  as  great  as  your  merit,  the  highest  worths  being 
always  accompanied  with  the  lowest  humilitie. 
May  your  name  ever  live,  who  have  rais'd  so  many  to 
life,  and  rescued  their  memories  from  the  tyranny 
of  oblivion.  Amongst  many  others,  I  am  particu- 
larly obliged  to  your  courtesie,  in  the  remembrance 
of  that  good  man  Mr.  Udal,  whom  by  kindred  I 
am  something  related.  One,  of  whom  we  have  this 
tradition,  that  he  was  the  first  man  King  James 
asked  for  when  he  came  into  England;  and  being 
answered,  that  he  was  dead,  the  King  (whose  judg- 
ment was  an  exact  standard  of  learning  &  learned 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  9 

men)  reply'd  By  my  sal,  then  the  greatest  Scholar 
in  Europe's  dead.  And  certainly,  by  his  own  party 
(if  they  may  be  admitted  for  competent  Judges) 
it  is  not  yet  resolv'd,  whether  his  Learning  or  his 
Zeal  were  greatest;  and  they  think  they  justly 
boast  him  a  Confessor,  if  not  a  Martyr  for  that 
Cause,  which  since  hath  paid  those  scores  with 
Interest.  Now,  though  I  am  no  heir  to  his  opinions, 
yet  a  small  affinity  to  his  Person,  makes  me  embrace 
the  opportunitie  of  proffering  you  that  Intelligence 
you  complain  to  want,  the  rather,  because  (perhaps) 
no  man  can  now  do  it  but  my  self;  and  I  have  a 
Relation  of  all  his  Trials,  Censures,  and  Sentence, 
written  by  himself;  which  (I  doubt  not)  may  give  you 
a  satisfactorie  account  in  what  you  desire.  If  you 
please  to  command  it,  I  shall  be  ambitious  to  serve 
you,  and  the  truth  therewith.  But  I  could  wish  you 
would  review  that  passage  in  the  31  Sect.  After  the 
Execution  of  Udal,  &c.  for  he  died  at  the  White- 
Lyon  (just  as  his  pardon  was  procured)  and  was 
buried  at  St.  Georges  Southwark.  And  so  I  leave  him 
to  his  Rest,  wishing  his  good  name  and  doctrines  may 
survive  his  discipline.  .  .  .  Did  I  not  fore-see  that 
the  relation  would  swell  my  discourse  beyond  the 
limits  of  a  Letter,  or  /the  length  of  your  patience,  I 
should  assume  the  lib-ertie  to  inform  you,  that  my 
neighbourhood  to  the  place,  acquaints  me  with  some 
Relicts  of  Religious  Houses,  at  and  near  Maldon, 
bearing  still  the  name  of  an  Abbey,  a  Friery,  and  a 
Nunnery.  And,  if  we  may  judge  Hercules  by  his  foot, 
of  the  whole  piece  by  the  remnant,  and  of  them  by 
their  Remaines,  I  should  suppose  them  not  behind 
many  in  England.  As  yet,  I  know  little  of  them, 
but  their  ruines;  but,  if  you  vote  it  convenient,  I 
shall  endeavour  to  improve  my  present  ignorance 
into  a  discoverie  of  them.  I  suppose  it  will  be  no 
hard  task;  I  am  sure  it  shall  not,  when  in  relation  to 
your  command.  I  must  now  take  pitie  of  your 
patience,  which  had  not  run  this  hazard  of  abuse  did 
I  not  know  I  have  to  do  with  so  great  a  Candor, 


10  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

from  which  I  can  expect  no  less  than  pardon.  And 
in  that  presumption  I  crave  your  leave  to  be,  as  I 
subscribe  my  self 

Sir,  your  most  assured  servant, 

T.  F. 

Forde's  Published  Works. 

Forde  published  the  following  works: 
(1)     The  Times  anatomiz'd  in  severall  char- 
acters.    By  T.  F.    Difficile  est  Satyram  non 
scribere.     Juv.  Sat.   1.     London.     Printed  for 
W.  L.,  Anno  1647.     [12mo.j 

This  volume  contains  thirty  characters — "A 
good  King,"  "A  discontented  person,"  "A 
newter,"  "A  novice-preacher,"  etc.  For  a  full 
description  of  the  book,  with  a  reprint  of  one 
of  the  "characters,"  see  Dr.  Philip  Bliss's  edi- 
tion of  Earle's  Microcosmography.  Forde,  in 
his  Familiar  Letters  (p.  91),  discusses  with  the 
printer  W[illiam]  L[eybourne]  the  question  of 
reprinting  the  volume:  "Concerning  the  re- 
printing of  my  Characters,  and  augmenting 
them,  I  have  had  some  serious  thoughts,  and 
the  result  is  this.  I  find  them,  upon  perusal, 
not  suitable  to  the  present  State.  .  .  So 
that  I  hold  it  not  safe  for  you  to  print,  or  me 
to  enlarge  them."29    This,  as  well  as  the  manu- 

29  This  letter  also  reveals  the  fact  that  Robert  Leybourne 
was  the  father  of  William  Leybourne.  Mr.  H.  R.  Plomer 
in  A  Dictionary  of  the  Booksellers  and  Printers  1641-1667 
(The  Publications  of  the  Bibliographical  Society,  1907) 
says  that  William  was  "possibly  a  brother  of  Robert  Ley- 
bourne, with  whom  he  was  in  partnership  as  a  printer  from 
about  1651." 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  11 

script  note  on  the  title-page  of  the  British  Mu- 
seum copy,  serves  to  identify  the  author  as 
Thomas  Forde. 

(2)  Lusus  Fortunce:  The  Play  of  Fortune: 
continually  Acted  by  the  severall  Creatures  on 
the  Stage  of  the  World.  Or,  A  glance  at  the 
various  mutability,  inconstancie,  and  uncer- 
tainty of  all  earthly  things.  From  a  consider- 
ation of  the  present  Times.  By  T.  F.  Printed 
for  R.  L.  1649.  [12mo,  sixty-four  leaves.] 
This  volume  consists  of  essays  on  "the  mutabil- 
ity of  all  earthly  things,"  illustrated  by  numer- 
ous quotations  from  the  classics  and  from  mod- 
ern literature. 

(3)  Five  pieces  (as  described  below)  in  prose 
and  verse,  with  separate  title-pages,  and  sep- 
arate pagination,  but  with  continuous  signa- 
tures. These  are  sometimes  met  with  as  sep- 
arate publications,  the  several  title-pages  bear- 
ing the  date  1660;  and  sometimes  in  a  single 
volume,  with  a  general  title-page  dated  1661. 
The  ordinary  form  of  this  title-page  is:30 

Virtus  Rediviva,  A  Panegyrick  on  our  Late  King 
Charles  the  I.  &c.  of  ever  blessed  Memory.  Attended, 
With  severall  other  Poems  from  the  same  Pen.  Vis. 
I.  A  Theatre  of  Wits:  Being  a  Collection  of  Apo- 
thegms. II.  Fcenestra  in  Pectore;  or  a  Century  of 
Familiar  Letters.   III.    Loves  Labyrinth:   A  Tragi- 


80  From  W.  C.  Hazlitt's  Third  and  Final  Series  of  Biblio- 
graphical Collections  and  Notes,  1887. 


12  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

comedy.  IV.  Fragmenta  Poetica:  Or  Poeticall  Di- 
versions. Concluding,  with  a  Panegyrick  on  His 
Sacred  Majesties  most  happy  Return.  By  T.  F. 
Varietas  delectat.  London:  Printed  by  R.  &  W. 
Ley  bourn,  for  William  Grantham.  .  .  and 
Thomas  Basset.     .     .    1661. 

In  the  Harvard  University  Library,  however, 
is  a  copy31  with  the  following  title-page: 

A  Theatre  of  Wits,  Ancient  and  Modern.  Attended 
with  severall  other  ingenious  Pieces  from  the  same 
Pen.  I.  Fcenestra  in  Pectore,  or  a  Century  of  Famil- 
iar Letters.  II.  Loves  Labyrinth:  A  Tragi-comedy. 
III.  Fragmenta  Poetica:  Or  Poetical  Diversions.  IV. 
Virtus  Rediviva,  A  Panegyrick  on  our  late  King 
Charles  of  ever  blessed  Memory.  Concluding,  with 
A  Panegyrick  on  His  Sacred  Majesties  most  happy 
Return.  By  T.  F.  Varietas  delectat.  London 
Printed  by  R.  &  W.  Leybourn,  for  Thomas  Basset, 
in  St.  Dunstans  Church-yard  in  Fleet-street.  1661. 

I  give  below  a  more  detailed  description  of  the 
"severall  Pieces." 

(a)  Virtus  Rediviva,  a  prose  tract  of  twenty- 
seven  pages,  lauding  King  Charles  in  extrava- 
gant terms.  This  is  followed  by  Oweni  Epigr. 
in  Regicidas,  six  lines  in  Latin;  An  Elegie  on 
Charts  the  First,  &c,  sixty  lines;  An  Anniver- 
sary on  Charts  the  First,  1657,  and  Second  Anni- 
versary on  Charts  the  First,  1658,  two  poems  of 
fifty-six  and  fifty-eight  lines,  written  on  the 
respective  anniversaries  of  the  execution  of 
King  Charles. 

31  This  copy  is  from  the  library  of  J.  Payne  Collier,  and 
earlier  from  the  library  of  Sir  Charles  Clark. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  13 

(b)  Loves  Labyrinth.     To  be  described  later. 

(c)  A  Theatre  of  Wits,  a  collection  of  apo- 
thegms, chosen  from  Howell's  Familiar  Letters, 
and  from  other  works. 

(d)  Foznestra  in  Pectore,  a  collection  of  one 
hundred  and  two  letters,  addressed  by  Forde 
to  his  friends,  and  chosen,  it  seems,  from  his 
actual  correspondence.  To  E.  B.  ( =  Edward 
Barwick)  he  addresses  nine  letters;  to  C.  F. 
(=  C.  Flower),  twelve;  to  W.  L.  (=  William 
Leybourne),  four;  to  his  father,  one;  to  T.  F. 
(=  Thomas  Fuller),  one;  to  J.  H.  (=  James 
Howell?)  five;  to  S.  M.  (=  Samuel  Man),  two. 
It  is  not  easy  to  identify  the  others.  Forde 
seems  to  have  arranged  the  letters  in  a  chron- 
ological order,  and  to  have  eliminated  personal 
details. 32  Most  of  them  are  stilted,  and  remark- 
ably dull.  One  passage,  however,  may  be  quoted 
for  its  general  interest  to  the  student  of  the 
drama.  In  writing  to  Edward  Barwick,  Forde 
attempts  to  give  the  news  in  the  city:33 

And  yet,  as  if  the  Tragedie  were  ended,  the  Soul- 
diers  have  routed  the  Players.  They  have  beaten 
them  out  of  their  Cock-pit,  baited  them  at  the  Bull, 
and  overthrown  their  Fortune.  For  these  exploits,  the 
Alderman  (the  Anagram  of  whose  name  makes  A 
Stink)  moved  in  the  House,  that  the  Souldiers  might 
have  the  Players  cloaths  given  them.     H.  M.  stood 


32  Cf.  p.  124. 

33  Page  56. 


14  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

up,  and  told  the  Speaker,  that  he  liked  the  Gentle- 
mans  motion  very  well,  but  that  he  feared  they 
would  fall  out  for  the  Fools  Coat. 

(e)  Fragmenta  Poetica,  twenty-four  pages, 
besides  the  title-page.  The  first  eleven  pages 
contain  sacred  poems,  For  Christmas  Day,  On 
the  Nativity,  The  25.  Cap.  of  Job  Paraphrased, 
etc.  The  next  nine  pages  contain  twenty- 
six  short  poems,  epigrams,  translations,  etc., 
among  them  Loves  Duel,  out  of  Anacreon,  printed 
also  in  Love's  Labyrinth;  a  poem  on  George  Her- 
bert, With  Herberts  Poeme;  and  four  epigrams 
on  Thomas  Bastard.  The  last  four  pages  con- 
tain a  panegyric  Upon  His  Sacred  Majesties 
most  Happy  Return,  on  the  29th  of  May,  1660. 
On  page  24  are  printed  the  Errata  for  the  entire 
volume. 

A     Bibliographical    Description    of   Love's 
Labyrinth.™ 

Love's  Labyrinth ;  [  or,  |  The  Royal  Shepherdess : 
|  a  iTragi-Comedie.  I  By  Tho.  Forde,  Philo- 
thal.\  Quid  Melius  desidiosus  agarn?  Fata 
viam  invenient.  \  Comica  festina  gaudet  sermone 
Thalia.  \  London,  |  Printed  by  R.  and  W.  Ley- 
bourn,  for  William  |  Grantham,  and  are  to  sold 
at  the  Signe  |  of  the  Black  Bear  in  St.  Pauls  \ 

44  From  a  copy  in  the  possession  of  the  writer,  collated 
with  a  copy  in  the  Harvard  University  Library. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  15 

Church-yard.  1660.  [Small  8vo,  pp.  [vi]  +72. 
Signatures  V,  X  — Z,  Aa,  in  eights.] 

Page  [ii].     Back  of  title-page,  blank. 

Pages  [iii-iv].  "To  his  Worthy  Friend  Mr. 
Thomas  Forde  on  his  LOVES  LABYRINTH," 
a  commendatory  poem  in  eight  six-line  stanzas, 
signed  "N.  C." 

Page  [v].  "To  my  ingenious  Friend,  Mr. 
Thomas  Forde,  on  his  LOVES  LABYRINTH," 
a  commendatory  poem  of  thirty-two  iambic  pen- 
tameter lines,  rhyming  in  couplets,  and  signed 
"Edw.  Barwick." 

Page  [vi].  "Persons  Personated,"  a  list  of 
the  dramatis  persona;  at  the  bottom  of  the  page, 
' '  The  Scwne  Arcadia." 

Pages  1-72.  The  text  of  the  play,  without 
prologue  or  epilogue,  and  ending  with  the  word 
"Finis."  The  following  errors  occur  in  the  pag- 
ination: "16"  for  "19";  "49"  for  "39."  The 
copy  in  the  Harvard  University  Library  has  the 
error  of  "2"  for  "32":  this  error,  however, 
does  not  occur  in  my  copy. 

In  general  the  book  is  poorly  printed,  and 
typographical  errors  are  frequent.  At  the  end 
of  Fragmenta  Poetica  (p.  24)  is  given  a  list  of 
Errata  for  the  entire  volume.  I  reprint  below 
that  part  which  refers  to  the  play.35 

In  Loves  Labyrinth,  on  the  title,  for  festina  r,  fes- 
tiva,  in  the  first  coppy  of  verses,  after  out-let  r,  there, 

35  From  a  copy  in  the  Harvard  University  Library. 


16  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

p,  3  I,  4  r  ready  in,  p,  3  Z  9  r,  volleys  Z,  18  r,  drops, 
p,  8,  Z,  30  r,  thou  now  p,  10  Z,  9  r,  thou  thus,  I,  15  r, 
wronged,  p,  11,  Z,  1  r,  rashness,  Z,  ZZie  ZasZ,  r,  mine, 
p,  23  Z,  12,  r,  be  my,  p,  26  Z,  20  r,  too  much,  p,  40 
[  =  29]  Z  4  r,  shine,  p,  32  Z,  27  r,  grown,  p,  33  I,  9  r, 
can  a,  p,  36  Z,  9  r,  her  neck,  p,  48  Z,  last  r,  empty,  p, 
54  Z,  9  r,  scornes,  p,  55,  Z,  12  r,  and,  p,  56  Z,  16  r, 
King. 

General  Description  of  the  Play. 

Love's  Labyrinth  seems  to  have  been  designed 
as  a  closet  drama.  It  has  neither  prologue  nor 
epilogue,  and  there  is  no  evidence  internal  or 
external  of  its  having  been  acted.  It  is  written 
throughout  in  blank  verse,  save  for  the  clownish 
speeches  of  Doron  and  Carmela  (which,  though 
printed  as  verse,  are  prose),  and  six  love  lyrics 
sung  by  the  shepherds.  Of  Forde's  ability  as  a 
poet  I  shall  allow  the  reader  to  judge  for  him- 
self. The  following  celebration  of  the  shep- 
herd's life  is,  I  believe,  the  best  example  of  his 
blank  verse: 

How  happy  are  these  shepherds!  Here  they  live 

Content,  and  know  no  other  cares,  but  how 

To  tend  their  flocks,  and  please  their  Mistress  best. 

They  know  no  strife,  but  that  of  love;  they  spend 

Their  days  in  mirth,  and  when  they  end,  sweet  sleeps 

Repay  and  ease  the  labours  of  the  day. 

They  need  no  Lawyers  to  decide  their  jars; 

Good  herbs  and  wholesome  diet,  is  to  them 

The  only  JZsculapius;  their  skill 

Is  how  to  save,  not  how  with  art  to  kill. 

Pride  and  ambition  are  such  strangers  here, 

They  are  not  known  so  much  as  by  their  names. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  17 

Their  sheep  and  they  contend  in  innocence 

Which  shall  excell,  the  Master  or  his  flocks. 

With  honest  mirth,  and  merry  tales  they  pass 

Their  time,  and  sweeten  all  their  cares. 

Whilst  Courts  are  fill'd  with  waking,  thoughtful  strife, 

Peace  and  Content  do  crown  the  shepherds  life. 

Two  additional  quotations  will  illustrate  suf- 
ficiently the  character  of  his  blank  verse : 


Men.    Ah,  cruel  love!  whose  music  is  compos'd 
Of  Lover's  jars  and  discords,  mixt  with  sighs! 
If  I  turn  traytor  once  more  unto  love, 
I'll  rob  him  of  his  deitie,  and  pull 
His  little  Kingdom  down;  I'll  pull  his  wings, 
And  with  the  quills  made  into  pens,  and  dipt 
In  saddest  lovers'  tears,  instead  of  ink, 
I'll  satires  write  against  his  tyrannic 

I  do  hate 
A  luke-warm  love:  give  me  a  love  flames  high, 
As  it  would  reach  the  element  of  fire, 
From  whence  it  came;  a  low  and  creeping  flame 
Befits  a  chimney,  not  a  lover's  breast. 
Give  me  a  love  dare  undertake  a  task 
Would  fright  an  Hercules  into  an  ague, 
A  love  dare  tempt  the  boldest  fate,  and  die 
An  honour'd  captive,  or  bold  conqueror. 
Give  me  a  daring,  not  a  whining  love, 
A  love  grows  great  with  opposition, 
A  love  that  scorns  an  easie  task — things  great 
And  noble  always  are  most  difficult. 
This  is  the  love  (blind  Cupid)  I  would  have, 
A  love  that  brings  home  trophies,  or  a  grave. 


\ 


But  Forde  is  at  his  best  in  his  lyrics.     The 
shepherd  Menaphon  sings: 


18  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

Fond  Love,  no  more 
Will  I  adore 

Thy  feigned  deity. 
Go  throw  thy  darts 
At  simple  hearts, 

And  prove  thy  victory. 

Whilst  I  do  keep 
My  harmless  sheep, 

Love  hath  no  power  on  me : 
"Pis  idle  souls 
Which  he  controlls; 

The  busie  man  is  free. 

After  having  seen   the  beautiful  shepherdess, 
Samela,  however,  Menaphon  sings: 

No  more,  no  more, 
Fond  Love  give  o're; 

Dally  no  more  with  me. 
Strike  home,  and  bold, 
Be  hot,  or  cold, 

Or  leave  thy  deitie. 

And  finally  to  the  fair  shepherdess  he  pipes: 

Why  so  nice  and  coy,  fair  Lady, 

Prithee  why  so  coy  ? 
If  you  deny  your  hand  and  lip 

Can  I  your  heart  enjoy?     .     .     .8e 

The  playwright,  too,  gives  us  a  translation  of 
Anacreon's  The  Duel.  This  was  rendered  by 
Thomas  Stanley  in  1651,  and  by  Abraham 
Cowley  in  1656;  yet  Forde's  translation,  I  be- 
lieve, is  by  far  the  most  pleasing. 

,n  Obviously   imitated   from   Suckling's   Aglaura   iv,    1 : 

Why  so  pale  and  wan,  fond  lover? 
Prithee,  why  so  pale? 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  19 

LOVE'S  DUEL. 
Cupid  all  his  arts  did  prove, 
To  invite  my  heart  to  love; 
But  I  always  did  delay 
His  mild  summons  to  obey, 
Being  deaf  to  all  his  charms. 
Straight  the  god  assumes  his  Arms. 
With  his  bow  and  quiver,  he 
Takes  the  field  to  duel  me. 
Armed  like  Achilles,  I, 
With  my  shield  alone,  defie 
His  bold  challenge.    As  he  cast 
His  golden  darts,  I  as  fast 
Catch'd  his  arrows  in  my  shield, 
Till  I  made  him  leave  the  field. 
Fretting,  and  disarmed  then, 
The  angry  god  returns  agen, 
All  in  flames;  'stead  of  a  dart, 
Throws  himself  into  my  heart. 
Useless  I  my  shield  require 
When  the  fort  is  all  on  fire. 
I  in  vain  the  field  did  win; 
Now  the  enemy's  within. 

Thus  betray'd,  at  last  I  cry, 

"Love,  thou  hast  the  victory!" 

Source — Gomersall's  "Sforza." 

Langbaine,  in  his  Account  of  the  English  Dra- 
matick  Poets  (1 691),  says :  "  Part  of  this  Play  is 
stollen  from  GomersaVs  Tragedy  of  Sforza  Duke 
of  Millain."  This  statement  has  been  repeated 
by  almost  every  subsequent  writer  on  the 
play,  and  has  been  generally  interpreted  as 
meaning  that  Forde  borrowed  from  Sforza  a 
part  of  the  plot.  Thus  Professor  Schelling 
(Elizabethan  Drama  ii,  177)  says :    "I  cannot  see 


20  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

what  causes  Halliwell-Phillipps  to  find  any  re- 
semblance between  Love's  Labyrinth  and  Gomer- 
saFs  Sforza,  a  drama  of  totally  different  type." 
A  careful  examination  of  Sforza  shows  that  in 
plot  Forde  was  not  indebted  to  this  tragedy  for 
one  jot  or  tittle;  however,  he  was  indebted  to 
Gomersall  for  some  twenty  odd  lines  of  text, 
filched  without  important  change  from  act  i, 
scene  1,  of  Sforza.  The  stolen  lines  (Love's 
Labyrinth  i,  5,  p.  14)  are: 

King.    Why  weeps  my  dear? 

Art.    Ask  why  I  do  not  weep. 
(Poor  Artaxia)  are  my  tears  denied  me! 
Ask  why  I  do  not  rave,  tear  my  hair  thus, 
Why  such  a  weight  of  sorrow  doth  not  rob 
So  much  of  woman  from  me,  as  complaints ! 
Or  rather,  why  do  I  not  cloud  the  skie 
With  sighs;  till  at  the  last  with  one  bold  stab 
My  own  hand  take  from  insulting  fortune, 
This  miserable  object  of  her  sport. 
Ask  why  I  do  not  this,  not  why  I  weep! 

Kin.     Or  stint  thy  tears,  or  mingle  mine  with  them, 
By  a  relation  of  their  cause;  these  eyes, 
Trust  me  Artaxia,  are  not  yet  drawn  dry, 
Nor  hath  strong  sorrow  e're  exhausted  them, 
To  make  them  bankrupt  of  a  friendly  tear,37 
But  not  a  fond  one.    Why  Artaxia! 
Why  dost  thou  hasten  those  that  come  too  fast, 
Sorrow  and  age? 

The  following  is  the  passage  in  Sforza.38  It 
will  be  observed  that  Forde's  transcript  is  much 
inferior. 

37  Here  has  been  dropped  the  line,  "Doe  thou  but  prove 
it  once  a  friendly  tear,"  to  the  injury  of  the  sense. 
33  I  have  copied  from  the  second  edition  (in  Poems  by 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  21 

Gal.    Why  weeps  my  Deare? 

Isab.     Aske  why  I  do  not  weep: 
(Poor  Isabella  are  thy  teares  deni'd  thee?) 
Aske  why  thus  long  such  a  succession 
Of  sorrow  clogs  my  bosome,  and  does  rob 
So  much  of  Woman  from  me,  as  complaints. 
Aske  why  I  doe  not  rave,  teare  my  haire,  thus, 
Create  a  grief,  which  Fate  would  spare  me,  then 
Cloud  the  sad  Ayre  with  sighes,  and  at  the  last, 
With  a  bold  stab  take  from  insulting  Fortune 
The  miserable  object  of  her  sport: 
Aske  why  I  do  not  this,  not,  why  I  weepe. 

Gal.     Or  stint  thy  teares,  or  mingle  them  with  mine 
By  a  relation  of  their  cause :  these  eyes, 
Trust  me,  my  Isabella,  are  not  dry, 
Nor  has  strong  sorrow  ere  exhausted  them, 
To  make  them  banckrout  of  a  friendly  teare. 
Doe  thou  but  prove  it  once  a  friendly  tear 
And  not  a  fond  one.    Why,  my  Isabella, 
Why  dost  thou  hasten  those  that  come  too  fast, 
Sorrow,  and  Age? 

In  two  careful  readings  of  Sforza  I  have  not 
been  able  to  discover  any  further  borrowing  on 
the  part  of  Forde.  The  passage  quoted  above 
is,  I  believe,  the  specific  theft  that  Langbaine 
had  in  mind. 

Source — Greene's  ' l Menaphon.' ' 

A  manuscript  note  in  the  British  Museum 
copy  of  Love's  Labyrinth  gives  the  real  source 
of  the  play — Greene's  Menaphon.  Forde  has 
reproduced   Menaphon  slavishly,   not  only  in 

Robert  Gomersall,  London,  1633),  of  which  the  publisher  says : 
"If  ever  it  were  worthy  the  reading,  now  the  worth  of 
it  is  multiplied,  the  whole  being  perused  by  the  author." 
The  first  edition  (1628)  is  not  accessible  to  me. 


22  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

plot,  but  also,  to  a  large  extent,  in  language. 
For  the  purpose  of  comparing  the  two,  both  in 
plot  and  in  language,  the  reader  is  referred  to 
Love's  Labyrinth,  pp.  39-41,  and  Menaphon,39 
pp.  47-8.  For  those,  however,  who  do  not  have 
access  to  the  play  I  submit  an  example  of  how 
Forde  ingeniously  turns  the  prose  of  Greene 
into  blank  verse. 

Love's  Labyrinth,  p.  21: 

When  heavens  frown, 
I  think  upon  my  faults,  and  a  clear  sky 
Puts  me  in  mind  of  the  gods  gracious  love. 
Envie  o're-looketh  me,  nor  do  I  gaze 
So  high  as  tall  ambition:  and  for  love, 
I  feed  myself  with  fancies  such  as  these: 
Venus  (the  Poets  say)  sprang  from  the  sea, 
Which  notes  to  me  th'  inconstancy  of  love, 
Changing  each  day  with  various  ebbs   and  tides, 
Sometimes  o're-flowing  the  banks  of  fortune 
With  a  gracious  look  from  a  lover's  eyes, 
Ebbing  at  other  times  to  th'  dangerous  shelf 
Of  cold  despair,  from  a  Mistris  frowns. 
Your  Cupid  must  be  young,  to  shew 
He  is  a  boy;  his  wings  inconstance  tell; 
He's  blind,  to  note  his  aim  is  without  rule 
Or  reason's  guide.     Such  is  the  god  ye  serve. 

This  is  a  mosaic  of  passages  taken  from 
Menaphon,  p.  24.  I  group  the  passages  in  the 
order  in  which  Forde  has  used  them.3" 


10  Here,  and  throughout  this  essay,  I  quote  from  Arbei's 
reprint  of  Menaphon  (The  English  Scholar's  Library,  1880). 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  23 

When  thou  seest  the  heauens  frowne  thou  thinkest 
on  thy  faults,  and  a  cleere  skie  putteth  thee  in  mind 
of  grace.  .  .  Enuie  ouerlooketh  thee.  .  .Thine 
eyes  are  vaylde  with  content  that  thou  canst  not 
gaze  so  high  as  ambition:  andforloue.  .  .  Venus 
was  feigned  by  the  Poets  to  spring  of  the  froathe 
of  the  Seas;  which  draue  him  straight  into  a  deepe 
coniecture  of  the  inconstancie  of  Love,  that,  as  if 
Luna  were  his  load-starre,  had  everie  minute  ebbes 
and  tides,  sometime  ouerflowing  the  banks  of  For- 
tune with  a  gracious  look  lightened  from  the  eyes 
of  a  fauorable  louer,  otherwhiles  ebbing  to  the  dan- 
gerous shelfe  of  despaire,  with  the  piercing  frowne 
of  a  froward  Mistresse.  .  .  .  Cupide  must  be 
yong  and  euer  a  boy  to  prooue  that  loue  is  fond 
and  witlesse,  wings  to  make  him  inconstant.  .  . 
blinde  (or  all  were  not  worth  a  pinne)  to  prooue 
that  Cupides  leuell  is  both  without  aime  and  reason : 
thus  is  the  God,  and  such  are  his  Votaries. 

Verbal  borrowing  of  this  nature  is  common 
throughout  the  play. 

In  plot  Forde  has  departed  in  no  important 
way  from  Greene's  story,  although  he  has  omit- 
ted some  details.  He  employs  the  same  char- 
acters, and  the  same  names,  with  one  excep- 
tion— Olympia  is  changed  to  Euryphilia.  Since 
this  change  in  name  is  accompanied  by  a  slight 
change  in  character,  I  suspect  that  Forde  was 
here  drawing  from  some  other  source.  He 
has  omitted  two  of  the  most  effective  and  dra- 
matic incidents,  the  oracle,  and  the  single  com- 
bat between  father  and  son.  For  the  omission 
of  the  first  I  can  suggest  no  reason;  the  second 
seems  to  have  been  suppressed  along  with  other 
details  at  the  end. 


24  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

Analysis  of  the  Plot. 

I  give  below  an  analysis  of  the  plot  by  scenes 
and  include  in  brackets  the  passages  in  Mena- 
phon which  constitute  the  source. 

I.  1.  Damocles,  King  of  Arcadia,  discovering 
that  his  daughter,  Sephestia,  has  married  se- 
cretly, and  has  given  birth  to  a  child,  raves  with 
anger.  Two  lords  plead  for  her,  and  the  king's 
brother,  Lamedon,  interposes  in  her  behalf,  but 
to  no  avail.  The  king  orders  Sephestia,  her 
husband,  and  her  child  to  be  set  adrift  on  the 
sea  in  an  open  boat  without  sail  or  oar.  [These 
events  precede  the  story  in  Menaphon,  but  are 
clearly  enough  suggested.] 

I.  2.  Sephestia  enters,  and  is  informed  by  the- 
two  lords  of   the   king's   sentence.     Lamedon 
decides  to  accompany  her.     [Suggested  in  Men- 
aphon.] 

I.  3-4.  The  husband,  Maximus,  enters  and  is 
informed  by  Sephestia  of  the  sentence.  The 
king  enters  in  a  towering  rage.  Maximus  re- 
veals his  high  birth  as  Prince  of  Cyprus,  but  the 
king  is  not  appeased.  A  lord  announces  that 
the  boats  are  ready,  and  the  victims  are  taken 
out.     [Suggested  in  Menaphon.] 

I.  5.  The  queen,  lamenting  the  loss  of  her 
only  child,  Sephestia,  stabs  herself.  [Men.  p. 
70.]  A  lord  informs  us  that  the  land  is  infected 
with  woes  and  miseries.  [Men.  p.  21.]  The 
king,  after  offering  to  stab  himself,  orders  a 
council   to   be   summoned,     [Men.  p.  21.] 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  25 

II.  1.  The  shepherd,  Menaphon,  inveighs 
against  love  [Men.  p.  16,  Sonetto],  and  sings 
a  song  on  the  theme  [Men.  p.  25].  A  clown- 
ish shepherd,  Doron,  enters,  and  reproaches 
Menaphon  for  scorning  the  love  of  the  shepherd- 
ess, Pensana.     [Suggested  in  Menaphon.] 

II.  2.  Maximus  "enters  shipwrecked/'  la- 
ments the  loss  of  Sephestia,  and  resolves  to  live 
as  a  shepherd  under  the  name  "Melecertus." 
[Suggested  in  Menaphon.] 

II.  3.  Doron  and  Carmela  engage  in  clown- 
ish love-making.     [Men.  pp.  85-88.] 

II.  4.  To  the  love-sick  Doron,  Menaphon 
delivers  an  invective  against  love.  [Men.  pp. 
24-6.] 

II.  5.  Sephestia  and  Lamedon  "enter  ship- 
wrecked." Sephestia  decides  to  disguise  her- 
self as  a  shepherdess,  and  adopts  the  name 
"Samela."     [Men.  pp.   26-31.] 

II.  6.  Menaphon  enters  to  them,  and  in- 
vites them  to  his  cottage.     [Men.  pp.  31-33.] 

II.  7.  Doron  and  Carmela  engage  in  clown- 
ish love-making.     [Men.  pp.  85-88.] 

II.  8.  Menaphon,  having  fallen  in  love  with 
Samela,  repents  his  former  invectives  against 
love.  Samela  enters,  and  Menaphon  praises 
the  shepherd's  life.     [Men.  pp.  33-5.] 

III.  1.  Two  pirates,  Romanio  and  Eurilochus, 
present  to  Agenor,  King  of  Thessaly,  a  young 
boy,  Plusidippus  (Sephestia's  child),  whom  they 


26  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

have  found  on  the  shore  of  Arcadia.  [Men.  pp. 
57-61.] 

III.  2.  Menaphon,  burning  with  love  for 
Samela,  expresses  himself  in  song.  Doron  over- 
hearing, laughs.  Samela  enters,  and  Mena- 
phon begins  a  courtship.     [Men.  pp.  37-40.] 

III.  3.  Melecertus  and  Doron  discuss  the 
beauty  of  Samela,  and  Doron  undertakes  to 
describe  her.     [Men.  pp.  40-43.] 

III.  4.  King  Damocles  is  repentant.  [No 
direct  source  in  Menaphon,  but  cf.  p.  23.] 

III.  5.  Melecertus  and  Samela  meet  each 
other  at  a  festival  of  the  shepherds.  [Men. 
pp.  44-9.] 

III.  6.  Melecertus  soliloquizes  on  his  love  for 
Samela.     [Men.  p.  49.] 

III.  7.  Pensana  discusses  her  ill  treatment 
at  the  hands  of  Menaphon.     [Men.  p.  50.] 

III.  8.  Lamedon  soliloquizes  on  the  pleasures 
of  a  shepherd's  life.     [Suggested  in  Menaphon.] 

IV.  1.  Agenor,  King  of  Thessaly,  urges  his 
daughter,  Euryphilia,  to  accept  Plusidippus 
for  a  husband.     [Men.  p.  69.] 

IV.  2.  Euryphilia  offends  Plusidippus,  and 
he  announces  his  intention  to  "seek  the  world 
through  for  a  worthier  mistress."  [Men.  67- 
70.] 

IV.  3.  Menaphon  is  rejected  by  Samela,  and 
turns  her  out  of  his  cottage.     [Men.  62-64.] 

IV.  4.  Plusidippus  declares  that  he  cannot 
rest  until  he  has  seen  the  beautiful  Arcadian 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  27 

shepherdess,  whose  fame  has  spread  over  the 
world.     [Men.  pp.  67-70.] 

IV.  5.  Samela  informs  her  uncle  of  Mena- 
phon's  harsh  treatment.  Lamedon  purchases 
for  her  a  cottage  and  a  flock  of  sheep.  [Men. 
p.  64.] 

IV.  6.  Menaphon,  while  lamenting  his  un- 
happy love  for  Samela,  is  visited  by  the  rejected 
Pensana.     [Men.  pp.  64-7.] 

IV.  7.  King  Agenor,  of  Thessaly,  unable  to 
keep  Plusidippus  from  visiting  Arcadia,  gives 
him  permission  to  go.  Euryphilia  presents 
him  with  a  "favour."     [Men.  pp.  69-70.] 

IV.  8.  King  Damocles,  having  in  his  old  age 
become  wanton,  steals  away  to  Arcadia  to  view 
the  beautiful  shepherdess  there.  [Men.  pp. 
70-71.] 

IV.  9.  Samela  yields  to  the  love  of  Melecer- 
tus.     [Men.  pp.  50-55.] 

V.  1.  King  Damocles,  disguised  as  an  old 
shepherd,  and  Plusidippus,  as  a  wandering  young 
knight,  meet  on  the  plains  of  Arcadia.  Samela 
enters;  Plusidippus  makes  love;  she  rejects  him. 
[Men.  pp.  71-72.] 

V.  2.  Plusidippus  captures  Samela  and  turns 
her  over  to  the  supposed  old  shepherd  for  safe- 
keeping. Damocles,  revealing  to  Samela  his 
rank,  makes  suit  for  her  hand.  She  recognizes 
him  as  her  father  and  repels  his  love.  [Men. 
pp.  72-73.] 

V.  3.  Plusidippus,  now  havine:  Samela  in  his 


28  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

power,  renews  his  suit,  and  again  is  rejected- 
[Men.  p.  73.] 

V.  4.  King  Damocles  sends  secretly  to  court 
for  soldiers.     [Men.  p.  83.] 

V.  5.  Samela  soliloquizes  on  her  hard  lot. 
[Men.  p.  84.] 

V.  6.  Doron  and  Carmela  engage  in  clownish 
love-making.     [Men.  pp.  85-8.] 

V.  7.  Menaphon  betrays  Melecertus  into 
the  hands  of  Damocles.  [No  source  in  Mena- 
phon.} 

V.  8.  The  scene  shifts  to  the  court.  King 
Damocles  has  in  his  power  Samela,  Plusidippus, 
and  Melecertus.  Samela  still  refuses  the  King's 
offer  of  marriage.  He  draws  his  sword  to  kill 
Melecertus,  whereupon  Samela  discloses  her 
identity;  Melecertus,  in  joy,  reveals  himself  as 
Maximus;  Plusidippus,  discovering  his  birth, 
embraces  his  parents;  the  faithful  uncle,  Lame- 
don,  returns;  and  all  ends  happily.  [Men.  pp. 
89-92.] 

History  of  the  Menaphon  Story. 

Since  no  one,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  has  under- 
taken to  give  a  history  of  the  Menaphon  story, 
I  shall  attempt  to  point  out  briefly  its  sources, 
and  its  several  versions  up  to  the  appearance 
of  Love's  Labyrinth. 

The  story,  I  believe,  may  be  traced  back  to 
The  Lay  of  Havelok  the  Dane.     According  to 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  29 

this  poem,  Athelwold,  King  of  England,  upon 
his  deathbed  leaves  his  only  daughter,  Gold- 
borough,  to  the  guardianship  of  Earl  Godrich 
with  the  instruction  that  he  marry  her  to  the 
tallest,  fairest,  and  strongest  man  in  England. 
Immediately  the  treacherous  Earl  begins  to 
plot  against  his  ward.  In  the  course  of  time 
Havelok,  heir  to  the  Danish  throne,  though 
unaware  of  his  high  birth,  secures  employment 
in  the  Earl's  kitchen.  He  is  tall,  fair,  and  noted 
through  the  country  for  his  wonderful  strength. 
The  scheming  Earl,  pretending  to  follow  her 
father's  instruction,  forces  Goldborough  to  wed 
Havelok,  for  by  thus  marrying  her  to  a  base 
kitchen  knave,  he  hopes  to  be  permanently 
rid  of  her.  In  the  end  Havelok's  identity  is 
discovered,  his  throne  is  restored  to  him,  Earl 
Godrich  is  burned  at  the  stake,  and  Goldborough 
is  proclaimed  Queen  of  England. 

In  the  Anglo-French  version  of  the  story  by 
Geffrei  Gaimar,  the  king  is  called  "  Adelbricht" ; 
Goldborough  is  called  "Argentile";  Earl  God- 
rich is  called  "Edelsie";  and  in  another  Anglo- 
French  version,  Le  Lai  d'Havelok,  Havelok  is 
given  the  surname  "Cuaran."40  These  are  the 
names  employed  by  William  Warner  in  his 
pretty  and  popular  version  of  the  story  in  Al- 


40  It  is  beyond  the  scope  of  this  paper  to  trace  the  sources 
of  The  Lay  of  Havelok,  or  to  give  the  numerous  later  ver- 
sions of  the  story. 


30  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

bion's  England,  book  iv,  ch.  xx.41  Not  content 
with  the  narrative  as  he  found  it  in  Caxton's 
Chronicle,  Warner  moulded  it  to  suit  his  fancy. 
With  the  license  of  the  literary  artist,  he  turned 
the  bare  facts  of  history  into  a  pastoral  romance 
of  love,  the  most  beautiful,  perhaps,  in  his  long 
poem.  The  following  is  a  brief  outline  of  the 
metamorphosed  story: 

King  Adelb right,  upon  his  deathbed,  in- 
trusted his  only  child,  the  princess  Argentile, 
to  the  guardianship  of  her  uncle,  King  Edel. 
At  once  King  Edel  began  to  plot  against  his 
niece,  in  order  to  secure  the  entire  kingdom  for 
himself.  She  grew  up  to  be  "the  fairest  lady 
under  heaven,"  and  the  fame  of  her  beauty 
spread  far.  Her  scheming  uncle,  however,  kept 
her  mewed  up  from  all  suitors.  Finally,  "by 
chance  one  Curan,  son  unto  a  prince  in  Danske, 
did  see  the  maid,  with  whom  he  fell  in  love  as 
much  as  one  might  be."  By  disguising  himself 
as  a  kitchen  drudge  he  secured  access  to  the 
princess,  revealed  his  high  birth,  "and  did  his 
love  bewray."  King  Edel,  having  discovered  the 
infatuation  of  the  kitchen  knave,  urged  the  suit 
upon  Argentile,  for  by  such  an  ignoble  match 
he  hoped  to  dispose  effectively  of  his  niece's 
claim  to  the  throne.  But  Argentile,  under- 
standing the  plot  of  her  uncle,  fled  secretly  from 
the  court  and  took  up  a  secluded  life  among  the 

41  The  names,  as  well  as  the  incident,  came  down  to  War- 
ner through  The  Brule  and  Caxton's  Chronicle. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  31 

shepherds.  "When  Curan  heard  of  her  escape, 
the  anguish  in  his  heart  was  more  than  much," 
and  forgetful  of  his  birth,  his  country,  and  his 
friends,  he  also  fled  to  the  fields  and  took  up  a 
solitary  life  among  the  shepherds.  Here,  by 
chance,  Curan  and  Argentile  met;  but  in  their 
"shepherd  weeds"  they  did  not  recognize  each 
other.  "Then  began  a  second  love,  the  worser 
of  the  twaene." 

And  whilst  his  py-bald  cur  did  sleep 

And  sheep-hook  lay  him  by 
On  hollow  quills  of  oten  straw 

He  piped  melody. 

In  urging  his  suit  he  praised  the  contented 
life  of  the  shepherd,  and  he  portrayed  his  mistress 
in  a  "descending  description."  The  fair  shep- 
herdess could  not  resist  his  second  courtship. 
In  the  end  the  identity  of  the  lovers  was  dis- 
covered, and  they  returned  to  court,  where  they 
lived  "long  reigning  in  renowne." 

Warner's  story,  I  believe,  was  the  source  of 
Greene's  pastoral  romance,  Menaphon.  Al- 
bion's England  appeared  in  1586,  Menaphon  in 
1589;  in  all  probability,  therefore,  Greene  was 
familiar  with  Warner's  poem.  Francis  Meres, 
in  his  Palladis  Tamia  (1598),  gives  us  some 
notion  of  Warner's  great  reputation  among  his 
contemporaries:  "So  the  English  tongue  is 
mightily  enriched  and  gorgeously  invested  in 
rare  ornaments  and  resplendent  abiliments  by 
Sir  Philip  Sydney,  Spencer,  Daniel,  Drayton 
Warner,  Shakespeare,  Marlow,  and  Chapman.'/ 


32  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

A  more  apt  quotation  would  be  Thomas  Nash's 
"To  the  Gentlemen  Students  of  both  Universi- 
ties," prefixed  to  Greene's  Menaphon:  "As 
Poetrie  hath  beene  honoured  in  those  her  fore- 
named  professours,  so  it  hath  not  beene  any 
whit  disparaged  by  William  Warners  absolute 
Albions.  And  heere  Authoritie  hath  made  a 
full  point."  In  Menaphon,  of  course,  the  story 
is  modified  and  greatly  elaborated;  yet  Greene 
seems  to  have  needed  for  his  novels  little  more 
than  a  suggestion  of  plot. 

It  is  interesting  to  note,  too,  that  Menaphon 
in  many  particulars  resembles  Pandosto,  a  pas- 
toral romance  published  by  Greene  in  the  pre- 
ceding year.  In  elaborating  Warner's  story, 
Greene  seems  to  have  made  free  use  of  the  mate- 
rial he  had  previously  employed  in  Pandosto; 
for  example,  the  birth  of  a  child,  the  setting  of 
the  child  adrift  in  a  small  boat,  the  rearing  of  the 
child  in  a  foreign  country,  the  marriage  of  the 
child  to  the  heir  of  the  throne,  the  oracle  from 
Delphos,  the  incestuous  love  of  the  aged  father 
for  his  daughter.  In  some  minor  features,  too, 
the  similarity  is  striking.  Thus  in  Pandosto 
there  is  a  festival  of  the  shepherds,  "whither 
Fawniawas  also  bidden  as  the  mistress  of  the 
feast";  in  Menaphoni2  there  is,  likewise,  a  fes- 

42  For  a  discussion  of  the  sources  of  Pandosto,  see  Englische 
Studien,  vol.  ii,  p.  141,  in  which  Caro  traces  certain  features 
of  the  story  to  actual  events  in  the  history  of  Poland  and 
Bohemia. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  33 

tival  of  shepherds,  attended  by  Samela,  "and 
for  that  she  was  a  stranger,  they  graced  her  to 
make  her  the  mistress  of  the  Feast."  In  both 
novels  the  lovers  meet  as  a  result  of  this  festival. 
The  love  of  the  father  for  the  daughter,  too, 
is  handled  alike  in  both  stories.  "Pandosto, 
contrary  to  his  aged  years,  began  to  be  some- 
what tickled  with  the  beauty  of  Fawnia,  in  so 
much  that  he  could  take  no  rest,  but  cast  in  his 
old  head  a  thousand  new  devices" :  "He  [Dem- 
ocles],  although  he  were  an  olde  colt,  yet  had 
not  cast  all  his  wanton  teeth,  which  made  him 
under  the  brute  of  beeing  sicke  of  a  grievous 
appoplexie,  steale  from  his  Court  secretly  in  the 
disguise  of  a  shepheard,  to  come  and  seek  out 
Samela."  It  would  be  interesting  to  trace  in 
full  the  parallelisms  in  the  two  novels.  My  pur- 
pose, however,  is  merely  to  show  that  Greene, 
in  expanding  the  story  told  by  Warner,  made 
liberal  use  of  the  story  told  in  Pandosto,  and  that 
the  two  stories  together  may  be  considered  an 
adequate  source  for  Menaphon. 

The  next  person  to  handle  the  theme  was  Wil- 
liam Webster,  who  in  1617  published 

The  most  pleasant  and  delightful  Historie  of  Curan, 
a  Prince  of  Danske,  and  the  f  ayre  Princess  Argentile, 
Daughter  and  Heyre  to  Adelbright,  sometime  King 
of  Northumberland.  Shewing  His  first  Loue  vnto 
her,  his  successlesse  suits,  and  the  low  deiections  he 
underwent  for  her  sake.  His  second  Loue  to  the 
same  Lady  unknowne,  taking  her  for  a  poore  Countrie 
Damsell.      She  (by  reason  of  the  vnkindnesse  of 


34  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

King  Edell  her  vnkle  and  Gardian)  hailing  forsooke 
the  Court,  and  vndertooke  the  profession  of  a 
Neatherdes  Mayde.  His  constant  loue  (after  her 
long  continued  unkindnes)  rewarded  with  her  wished 
consent,  their  happie  Nuptials,  and  mutuall  reioy- 
cings,  his  valour  and  victorious  warre  with  King 
Edell.  And  lastly  his  peacefull  installment  in  the 
Kingly  Throne.  Enterlacte  with  many  pritty  and 
pithie  prayses  of  beauty,  and  other  amorous  dis- 
courses, pleasing,  smooth  and  delightfull.43 

This  is  a  poem  in  six-line  stanzas,  occupying 
thirty-two  quarto  leaves.  I  have  not  been  able 
to  examine  a  copy,44  yet  from  the  title  I  judge 
that  it  follows  closely  the  story  as  told  by  War- 
ner. "It  is  much  expanded,"  says  Collier;45 
"the  incidents  are  related  in  more  detail,  and 
the  speeches  of  the  persons  given  at  greater 
length." 

In  Thomas  Evans's  Old  Ballads46  is  printed 
"A  song  of  the  strange  lives  of  two  young 
princes  of  England,  who  became  shepherds  on 
Salisbury  plain,  and  were  afterwards  restored 
to  their  former  estates."  As  Collier  pointed 
out,47  this  long  ballad  of  192  lines  is  "an  impu- 

"  Hazlitt's  Hand-Book,  p.  647. 

44  So  far  as  I  can  discover,  there  is  only  one  copy  in  exis- 
tence. The  last  reference  lean  find  to  it  is  in  the  catalogue 
of  Heber's  sale,  1836;  his  copy,  which  cost  him  £15  15s, 
sold  for  £4  10s.  It  is  not  in  the  British  Museum,  nor  in  the 
Bodleian  Library. 

45  Poetical  Decamerone,  i,  265. 

46  Ballad  no.  77.  Evans  was  not  aware  of  its  source,  nor 
does  he  suggest  for  it  any  date. 

47  Poetical  Decamerone,  i,  265. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  35 

dent  plagiary  from  Warner."  The  names  are 
changed  (thus  Argentile  becomes  'Maudlin/ 
and  Curan,  'Raymund'),  but  the  metre  is  the 
same,  and  the  language,  in  general,  is  taken 
without  change,  or  with  little  change,  from 
Warner's  poem.  Besides  altering  the  names, 
the  writer  of  the  ballad  showed  no  originality. 

The  next  version  of  the  story  is  found  in 
The  Thracian  Wonder,  a  pastoral  comedy 
based  directly  on  Greene's  Menaphon.  Al- 
though not  printed  until  1661,  it  is  a  much 
older  play,  described  on  the  title-page  as  having 
been  "  several  times  Acted  with  great  Applause." 
Mr.  Fleay  tries  to  identify  it  with  War  Without 
Blows  and  Love  Without  Suit  (1598);  the  evi- 
dence, however,  is  too  slight  for  serious  consid- 
eration.48 The  publisher,  Francis  Kirkman, 
attributed  it,  incorrectly,  it  seems,  to  John 
Webster  and  William  Rowley.  For  a  full  discus- 
sion of  the  relation  of  the  play  to  Menaphon 
the  reader  is  referred  to  an  article  by  the 
present  writer,  in  Modern  Philology,  iii,  317-25. 

Finally,  Thomas  Forde  dramatised  the  story 
in  Love's  Labyrinth. 


Relation  to  "The  Thracian  Wonder." 

Forde,  I  believe,  knew  nothing  at  all  of  The 
Thracian  Wonder;  certainly  he  borrows  nothing 


48 


Biog.  Chron.  oftheEng.  Drama,  i,  287. 


36  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

from  it.  At  the  time  his  Love's  Labyrinth  was 
issued  from  the  press,  The  Thracian  Wonder 
existed  as  a  manuscript  in  the  possession  of 
Francis  Kirkman,  the  bookseller,  and  was  not 
printed  until  the  following  year. 

Nevertheless  it  is  interesting  to  observe  how 
the  two  dramatists,  working  independently, 
met  the  difficulty  of  starting  the  play  from  the 
bare  suggestions  thrown  out  by  Greene.  The 
more  striking  similarities  in  the  introductory 
scenes — those  scenes  which  precede  the  story 
as  told  in  Menaphon — I  have  noted  as  follows : 
(1)  the  play  opens  with  the  raging  of  the  king 
against  his  daughter;  (2)  two  lords  intercede 
in  her  behalf;  (3)  the  king  issues  an  order  to 
set  the  guilty  ones  adrift  in  a  boat;  (4)  Maxi- 
mus  declares  that  the  king  shall  not  touch 
Sephestia;  (5)  Maximus  reveals  his  high  birth, 
yet  this  does  not  allay  the  king's  wrath;  (6) 
Maximus  urges  the  king  to  punish  him  alone, 
and  allow  Sephestia  to  escape  all  harm;  (7) 
Sephestia  urges  the  king  to  punish  her  alone, 
and  allow  Maximus  to  escape  all  harm;  (8) 
this  serves  only  to  increase  the  fury  of  the 
king,  who  immediately  orders  his  sentence  put 
into  execution.  A  comparison  of  the  two 
plays  will  reveal  minor  similarities,  which,  for 
lack  of  space,  cannot  be  noted  here.49 

49  The  comparison  with  The  Thracian  Wonder  suggests 
also  a  comparison  with  The  Winter's  Tale.  So  far  as  I  can 
discover,  however,  Forde  did  not  at  any  time  have  Shake- 
speare's play  in  iniDd. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  37 

Miscellaneous  Notes. 

In  my  study  of  Love's  Labyrinth  I  have  jotted 
down  occasionally  textual  and  other  notes. 
The  reader  may  pass  these  by;  I  have  included 
them  in  the  hope  that  they  may  prove  of  ser- 
vice to  any  one  who  in  the  future  may  attempt 
to  edit  the  play. 

Page  [i].  The  title,  Love's  Labyrinth,  may 
have  been  suggested  by  the  following  passage 
in  Menaphon  (p.  74):  "Democles  plunged  thus 
in   a   Laborinth   of  restless   passions." 

L.  6.  Philothal.  Mr.  Sidney  Lee,  in  The 
Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  explains  this 
as  an  abbreviation  of  "Philo-thalassios,"  a 
lover  of  the  sea.  There  is  no  evidence,  however, 
that  Forde  had  ever  seen  the  sea:  indeed,  in 
his  Fcenestra  in  Pectore  (p.  78)  he  tells  us  that 
he  had  never  travelled,  and  expresses  "  wonder 
not  at  those  that  go  to  Sea  once,  but  at  those 
that  go  again."  May  not  the  abbreviation  be 
for  "Philo-Thalia,"  a  lover  of  poetry?  This 
finds  some  support  in  the  Latin  phrase  quoted 
below  the  name:  "Comica  f estiva  gaudet 
sermone  Thalia." 

L.  7.     The  phrase 

Quid  melius  desidiosus  agam? 

is  taken  from  Martial,  Epigrams,  viii,  3,  12: 

Die  mihi,  quid  melius  desidiosus  ages? 


38  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

Page  [iv],  1.  25.  It  seems  impossible  to  iden- 
tify the  "N.  C."  who  signs  the  first  commenda- 
tory poem.  If  the  person  appears  in  the  Diet, 
of  Nat.  Biog.,  he  must  have  been  Nathaniel 
Crew  (1633-1722),  fifth  son  of  John  Crew,  of 
Stene,  a  gentleman  of  some  fortune.  Nathaniel 
entered  Oxford  in  1652,  proceeded  B.  A.  in 
1656,  and  was  elected  fellow  of  his  college.  In 
1661  his  father  was  made  Baron  Crewe  of  Stene, 
in  recognition  of  services  rendered  the  royalists. 
There  is  nothing,  however,  to  connect  Nathaniel 
Crew  with  the  "N.  C."  of  this  commendatory 
poem,  save  his  age,  and  his  alliance  with  the 
royalists.  In  Fcenestra  in  Pectore,  Forde  ad- 
dressed a  letter  to  "Mr.  N.  C."  (p.  13). 

Page  [v],  11.  31-2.  This  second  commendatory 
poem  contains  the  following  reference  to  Ben 
Jonson : 

Proceed,  then,  Worthy  Friend,  and  may  thy  Fame, 
Like  Laureat  Johnson,  ever  speak  thy  Name. 

L.  33.  Edw.  Barwick:  For  the  identifica- 
tion of  this  person,  see  ante. 

Page  1,  1.  8:  "Yet  shot  she  not  at  rovers," 
etc.  Cf.  Fcenestra  in  Pectore,  p.  45:  "The  rest, 
not  concluding  you  aymed  at  them  in  particular, 
since  you  onely  shot  at  Rovers  in  the  general: " 

Page   3,   11.   33-34— page  4,  1.   1.     Read   as 

follows: 

Than  do't.    What  heir  shall  [then]  succeed  your  self 

In  the  Arcadian  Diadem,  if  thus 

You  drown  the  Sun  of  all  our  hopes,  which  must 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  39 

Page  6,  1.  4.     Read  as  follows: 

Thus  are  we  taught  the  value  of  the  light. 

Page  9, 1.  30.     Read  as  follows : 

Can  boast  of:  [for]  'tis  thee  alone  I  value, 

Page  10, 1.  1.     Read  as  follows: 

Unto  the  fury  of  [the]  winds  and  waves. 

Page  11,  11.  8-10.  The  following  lines  reflect 
the  politics  of  Forde: 

Although  he  be  a  King,  which  sacred  name 
I  reverence,  and  as  a  mortal  god 
Adore,  he  shall  not  dare  to  injure  you. 

Cf.  also  page  13,  11.  5-8: 

the  commands  of  kings  are  not 
To  be  gain-said,  or  broken;  for  the  will 
Of  heaven  is  obey'd  in  doing  them. 

Page  12, 11.  28-29.     Read  as  follows : 

No,  as  ye  have  joyn'd  your  selves  in  mirth,  so  will 
I  joyn  ye  too  in  mourning;  and  because 

LI.  29-31.  Cf.  Fcenestra  in  Pectore,  p.  49: 
"And  because  two  make  no  musick,  we  engaged 
two  or  three  other  Consorts,  to  compleat  our 
Harmony." 

Page  13,  11.  19-20: 

Whilest  that  we  prove  our  selves  loves  Confessors. 
If  not  his  Martyrs. — 

Cf.  Fenestra  in  Pectore,  p.  136:  "They  think 
they  justly  boast  him  a  Confessor,  if  not  a 
Martyr  for  that  Cause." 


40  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

Page  15, 11.  8-9.     Read  as  follows: 

Ah  cruel  justice!  Justice?  No!  Tyranny 
This  is. 

Page  17,  11.  16-17.  A  pies  on  her:  (1)  a  pun 
on  the  name  "Pesana";  (2)  an  imprecation  of 
unexplained  origin.     See  N.  E.  D.  under  "pize." 

Page  20,  1.  33.  Loth  to  depart  is  the  name 
of  the  song  referred  to  by  Doron. 

Page  22,  11.  11-14.  These  lines  are  made  up 
from  "Menaphon's  Song"  (Menaphon,  p.  26) 
by  selecting  the  last  two  lines  of  each  stanza. 

L.  18.     For  Scam.  8  read  Scam.  5. 

L.  29.     For  drownd  read  drowned. 

Page  23, 1.  12.     Read  as  follows: 

The  cypress  grove  shall  be  [my]  Joynter,  where 

Joynter  =  jointer  =  jointure. 

Page  25,  11.  31-32.  Cf.  Fcenestra  in  Pectore, 
p.  53:  "For  though  I  have  hitherto  been  an 
Atheist  to  female  love." 

Page  26, 1.  2.     Read  as  follows : 

Furrowfing]  her  cheeks  with  cruel  strife. 

Page  27, 1. 19.     For  When  I  as  read  Whenas  I? 

LI.  28-30.  Forde  introduces  his  translation 
of  Anacreon's  The  Duel  with  the  following 
words : 

As  once  of  old 
Heserv'd  the  merry  Greek  Anacreon; 
Whose  fancie  fits  my  fortune:  Here  it  is. 


FORDE'S  LOVE'S  LABYRINTH  41 

Forde,  doubtless,  received  the  suggestion 
from  Menaphon  (p.  24):  "  Menaphon  in  this 
browne  studie,  calling  to  minde  certaine  Aph- 
orismes  that  Auarreon  [sic]  had  pend  downe." 
But  Greene  does  not  give  more  than  the  bare 
suggestion.  Since  Forde  has  included  the  poem 
in  his  Fragmenta  Poetica,  he  may  have  had  the 
translation  already  in  hand,  and  have  inserted 
it  in  the  play  at  the  suggestion  of  Greene.  A 
collation  of  the  poem  with  the  version  in  Frag- 
menta Poetica  (p.  16)  shows  the  following 
variants : 

Line  10: 

With  my  shield  and  spear  defie 

Line  16: 

Th'  angry  god  returns  agen, 

Line  24: 

Love!  th'  hast  got  the  victory. 

Page  29,  11.  10-13: 

May  I  presume 
To  crave  your  name,  and  to  enquire  how 
Hard-hearted  fortune  could  be  so  unjust, 
To  injure  innocence?  Signe  she  is  blind. 

Read  the  last  phrase,  a  signe  she's  blind? 

Page  32.  Menaphon's  soliloquy  is  thoroughly 
out  of  keeping  with  his  character  as  conceived 
by  Greene,  and  as  portrayed  elsewhere  in  this 
play.     The  soliloquy  is  introduced  merely  to 


42  JOSEPH  Q.  ADAMS,  JR. 

give  occasion  for  the  song.  Perhaps  Forde  is 
here  borrowing  from  some  other  writer. 

Page  33, 1.  9.     In  love,  read  A  love? 
L.  30.     For  Carmela,  read  Samela. 

Page  34,  11.  19-21.  The  following  lines  are 
attractive: 

How   now,    Menaphonl  I'm  afraid  thou  wilt 

Be  a  beggar  shortly,  thou  art  a  Poet  already — 

One  of  the  thred-bare  crew,  that  ragged  regiment! 

Page  36,  11.  19-20.  Doron,  the  clownish 
shepherd,  is  made  a  mouthpiece  for  the  fol- 
lowing pun : 

I  had  it  out  of  an  old  book  of 

My  brother  Moron's;  they  call  'm 

Rogue-mances,  I  think. 

This  echoes  not  only  the  sound  of  the  word, 
but  the  Puritan  sentiment  against  romances: 
it  does  not,  I  believe,  have  any  reference  to  the 
picaresque  novel. 

Page  54,  11.  19-24.  The  song  is  from  Mena- 
phon,  p.  64. 


GEORGE    MEREDITH    IN    AMERICA 
A   Comment  and   a   Bibliography 

BY  ELMER  JAMES  BAILEY,  PH.D. 
I.    A  COMMENT. 

As  Carlyle,  Browning,  Tennyson,  and  Meredith 
successively  died,  the  assertion  was  made  of 
each  that  true  appreciation  of  his  work  began  in 
America.  In  the  case  of  the  first  three,  no  resent- 
ment seems  to  have  been  aroused  in  England; 
certainly  no  counter-statement  was  forthcom- 
ing. It  was  otherwise  with  Meredith.  The 
English  reviews  warmly  resented  the  allegations 
of  the  American  claimants,  and  insisted  that 
there  never  was  a  time  when  English  enthusiasm 
for  the  last  Victorian  novelist  of  importance 
was  not  far  in  excess  of  the  admiration  felt  or 
expressed  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  To  hold 
a  brief  for  either  party,  or  to  act  as  judge  in 
the  suit  might  give  some  intellectual  pleasure; 
but  beyond  that,  would  do  nothing.  Yet  it 
may  be  wise  to  appeal  directly  to  Caesar.  Mere- 
dith, we  have  it  recorded  many  times  by  as 
many  different  visitors  to  Boxhill,  was  always 
ready   to   give   cordial   greeting   to   American 


44  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

callers,  never  allowing  one  to  depart  without 
assuring  him  that  he  himself  had  received 
his  chief  encouragement  from  his  readers  and 
reviewers  in  the  United  States. 

There  is  interest  in  asking  when  this  encourage- 
ment began  and  how  rapid  was  its  growth. 
In  the  first  fifteen  years  of  Meredith's  literary 
career,  beginning  with  the  appearance  of  Chil- 
lianwallah  in  the  issue  of  Chambers'  Edinburgh 
Journal  for  July  7,  1844,  and  ending  with  the 
publication  of  The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel 
in  1859,  there  was  not,  apparently,  a  single 
word  referring  to  Meredith  in  any  American 
periodical.  Yet  in  England,  William  Michael 
Rossetti  and  Charles  Kingsley  favorably  re- 
viewed the  Poems  of  1851 ;  George  Eliot  wrote 
at  length  in  The  Leader,  of  The  Shaving  of 
Shagpat,  and  somewhat  more  briefly,  in  The 
Westminster  Review,  of  both  that  book  and  its 
successor  Farina;  finally  the  conservative  Lon- 
don Times  printed  almost  three  columns  of 
comment  upon  Meredith's  first  novel.  In  the 
face  of  these  facts  we  cannot  very  strongly 
uphold  the  contention  that  Meredith  gained 
his  first  recognition  in  this  country.  Indeed, 
until  late  in  1860  he  was  probably  unknown 
to  American  readers. 

Between  February  11,  1860  and  October 
13  of  the  same  year,  the  English  Once  a  Week 
published  as  its  leading  piece  of  fiction  Mere- 
dith's second  novel  under  the  title  Evan  Har- 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  45 

rington;  or  He  would  be  a  Gentleman.  Early 
in  the  following  year  Messrs.  Bradbury,  Evans, 
and  Company  brought  out  the  work  in  three 
volumes  with  a  number  of  changes  in  readings 
and  without  the  sub-title.  This,  however, 
was  not  the  first  edition  of  the  novel;  that  ap- 
peared in  this  country  from  the  press  of  Messrs. 
Harper  and  Brothers,  late  in  1860.  By  what 
arrangement  with  the  author,  the  American 
firm  published  the  book,  it  seems  impossible 
now  to  learn.  This,  at  least,  is  certain:  save  that 
forty  illustrations  by  Charles  Keene  were  not 
reproduced,  the  edition  published  in  New  York 
is  an  exact  reprint  of  the  story  as  it  appeared 
in  serial  form — errors,  sub- title,  and  all.  How 
the  book  sold  we  have  no  means  of  discovering. 
Apparently  it  had  but  one  review,  the  following 
lines  in  Harper's  New  Monthly  Magazine, 
Volume  xxii,  January,  1861: 

"Evan  Harrington;  or  He  would  be  a  Gentleman  (published 
by  Harper  and  Brothers)  is  a  spirited  novel,  illustrative  of 
the  distinction  of  rank  in  English  society,  and  remarkable 
for  the  vivacity  of  its  narrative  and  the  dramatic  raciness 
of  its  dialogue." 

Satisfactory  or  unsatisfactory  as  this  venture 
may  have  been,  neither  Messrs.  Harper  and 
Brothers  nor  any  other  American  publishers 
undertook  to  reprint  anything  of  Meredith's 
until  1877.  In  that  year  the  short  tale  The 
House  on  the  Beach  was  republished  from  the 
January  number  of  The  New  Quarterly  Review 


K'.  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

as  No.  22  of  Harper's  Half -Hour  Series.  Two 
years  later,  that  is  in  1879,  the  same  American 
firm  included  The  Egoist  as  No.  90  in  their 
Franklin  Square  Library,  as  they  also  did 
Diana  of  the  Crossways  in  1885  as  No.  462. 
Meanwhile  George  Munro  had  published  The 
House  on  the  Beach  in  1878,  The  Tragic  Come- 
dians in  1881,  and  an  abbreviated  edition  of 
Diana  of  the  Crossways  in  1885  as  issues  of  The 
Seaside  Library.  In  1885  Meredith  was  fifty- 
seven  years  old,  and  had  been  writing  for  thirty- 
six  years;  yet,  aside  from  the  seven  unauthorized 
reprints  thus  far  mentioned,  none  of  his  work 
had  issued  from  American  presses;  and  regard- 
ing his  power  the  American  reviewers  were 
silent. 

On  the  ground,  however,  that  publishers  are 
not  likely  to  print  what  is  not  in  noticeable 
demand,  we  may  infer  that  Meredith  was  mak- 
ing no  inconsiderable  audience  in  this  country. 
To  meet  the  desires  of  American  readers,  there- 
fore, Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers  of  Boston  en- 
tered into  arrangements  with  Messrs.  Chapman 
and  Hall  of  London  by  which  the  former  firm 
became  the  distributers  of  Meredith's  works  in 
America.  They  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  pub- 
lishers, for  the  books  were  both  printed  and 
bound  in  England,  those  for  the  American 
trade  having  upon  the  title  pages  the  name  of 
the  American  agents  and  bearing  at  the  base  of 
the  back  cover  the  letters  R.  B.  in  place  of 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  47 

Chapman  and  Hall.  The  publication  in  this 
uniform  edition  of  the  ten  volumes  of  prose 
written  by  Meredith  before  the  end  of  1885, 
was  not  completed  until  1887.  Two  years  later 
a  so-called  "New  Edition"  began  to  appear. 
It  was  printed,  however,  from  the  plates  of  the 
previous  issue,  differing  from  it,  therefore,  only 
in  that  a  new  binding  was  used  and  that  in  1891 
an  eleventh  volume,  One  of  Our  Conquerors, 
was  added.  This  reprint  was  the  blue  and  gold 
edition  long  popular  in  England;  but  the  supply 
intended  for  American  trade  was  sent  to  this 
country  in  sheets  and  was  bound  up  here  in 
brown  cloth  stamped  upon  the  side  with  a  por- 
trait of  Meredith  in  gold  and  his  autograph  in 
black. 

Meanwhile  Messrs.  Ward,  Lock,  and  Com- 
pany had  in  1892  published  The  Tragic  Come- 
dians with  a  special  introductory  note  by 
Clement  Shorter  on  Ferdinand  Lassalle.  This 
was  also  imported  in  sheets  by  Roberts  Brothers, 
and  was  bound  up  here  to  match  the  second  uni- 
form edition  of  Meredith's  prose  work. 

In  the  matter  of  Meredith's  poetry,  the  four 
volumes  entitled  Ballads  and  Poems  of  Tragic 
Life,  A  Reading  of  Earth,  The  Empty  Purse, 
and  Modern  Love  were  respectively  issued 
by  Roberts  Brothers  in  1887,  1888,  1892, 
and  1893.  It  is  interesting  to  know  that  the 
same  collections  of  verse  were  also  published 
in  the  same  years  by  Messrs.  Macmillan  and 


48  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

Company  as  from  London  and  New  York;  and 
that  the  apparent  anomaly  existed  of  two  firms 
in  one  country  issuing  the  same  books.  The 
Boston  firm,  however,  printed  its  own  edition; 
the  New  York  firm  imported  its  copies  from 
England. 

When  the  firm  of  Roberts  Brothers  dissolved 
in  1895,  Messrs.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons  took 
over  all  the  Meredith  items  carried  by  the 
former  publishers  and  thenceforward  became  the 
authorized  publishers  and  distributers  of  Mere- 
dith's writings  in  America.  In  1898  they  pub- 
lished in  sixteen  volumes  the  Boxhill  Edition, 
the  first  to  be  printed  in  this  country;  and  in 
1906  using  the  same  plates,  they  issued  a  pocket 
edition  of  Meredith's  prose  and  poetry.  For 
a  brief  time  between  these  two  dates,  the  firm 
carried  a  pocket  edition  printed  and  bound  for 
themin  England  by  Messrs.  Archibald  Constable 
and  Company,  although  the  title  pages  bore 
the  names  of  the  American  agents.  Until 
Meredith's  death  in  1909,  therefore,  but  two 
editions  of  his  collected  work  had  actually  been 
printed  in  America,  although  five  purporting 
to  have  been  published  here  had  been  upon 
the  market.  Early  in  1910  a  Memorial  Edi- 
tion began  to  appear.  This  was  rendered  possi- 
ble by  arrangement  with  the  novelist's  son, 
Mr.  William  Manxe  Meredith,  who  is  super- 
intending a  simultaneous  issue  of  his  father's 
work  in  London.    In  contents  the  corresponding 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  49 

volumes  of  the  English  and  American  editions 
are  identical ;  in  pagination  they  differ  consider- 
ably. 

The  fact  that  six  editions  of  an  author  who 
never  catered  to  popularity,  could  be  called  for 
in  twenty-five  years  shows  that  his  writings 
must  be  in  demand.  But  there  are  other 
proofs  that  Meredith's  audience  was  increasing. 
Pirated  editions  of  Rhoda  Fleming,  of  The  Egoist, 
and  of  Diana  of  the  Crossways  appeared;  a 
strange  trio  indeed,  and  all  the  stranger  since 
in  issuing  the  novel  last  named,  the  publishers 
with  calm  indifference  presented  the  American 
public  with  but  twenty-six  of  the  forty-three 
chapters  which  Meredith  wrote.  Further,  one 
novel,  One  of  Our  Conquerors,  was  in  1890  pub- 
lished as  a  serial  simultaneously  in  this  country, 
in  England,  and  in  Australia;  another,  The 
Amazing  Marriage,  was  first  printed  as  the  lead- 
ing novel  of  Scribner's  Magazine  for  1895. 
And,  still  further,  from  1885  the  year  when 
Roberts  Brothers  undertook  to  present  George 
Meredith  to  American  readers,  reviews  have 
been  many  and  just.  Not  a  magazine  of  repute 
but  has  given  much  space  to  a  consideration  of 
Meredith's  art,  mission,  and  power.  Find  fault 
as  they  may,  the  American  critics  have  sooner 
or  later  united  with  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward  in 
exclaiming,  "The  Master  of  us  all,  George 
Meredith!" 

This  is  no  place  to  take  even  a  cursory  view 


50  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

of  the  opinions  of  Meredith's  American  critics. 
The  purpose  of  such  a  paper  as  this  is  best 
subserved,  no  doubt,  by  enumerating  the  arti- 
cles from  the  pen  of  such  critics,  and  indicating 
where  they  may  be  found.  In  the  following 
bibliography,  the  compiler  has  included  noth- 
ing which  has  not  been  actually  printed  in  this 
country,  and  he  has  been  forced,  for  obvious 
reasons,  to  omit  mention  of  many  contributions 
to  daily  newspapers  and  weekly  magazines. 

II.     A  BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

A.      SINGLE   PUBLICATIONS. 

1860.  Evan  Harrington  or  He  would  be  a  Gentleman.  New 
York,  Harper  and  Brothers.     12mo,  pp.  492. 

1877.  The  House  on  the  Beach,  A  Realistic  Tale.  New 
York,  Harper  and  Brothers.  32mo,  pp.  140.  Half-Hour 
Series. 

1878.  The  House  on  the  Beach.  New  York,  George  Munro. 
4to,  pp.  13.    Seaside  Library,  No.  221. 

1879.  The  Egoist;  A  Comedy  in  Narrative.  New  York, 
Harper  and  Brothers.  4to,  pp.  101.  Franklin  Square  Li- 
brary, No.  90. 

1881.  The  Tragic  Comedians;  A  Study  in  an  Old  Story. 
New  York,  George  Munro.  4to,  pp.  30.  Seaside  Library, 
No.  939. 

1885.  Diana  of  the  Crossways;  a  Novel.  New  York,  Har- 
per and  Brothers.  4to,  pp.  76.  Franklin  Square  Library, 
No.  468.— Diana  of  the  Crossways;  A  Novel.  New  York, 
George  Munro.  4to,  pp.  29.  Seaside  Library,  No.  1944.— 
Also  16mo,  pp.  106.  Seaside  Library,  Pocket  Edition,  No.  350. 

1887.  Ballads  and  Poems  of  Tragic  Life.  Boston,  Roberts 
Brothers.     16mo. 

1888.  A  Reading  of  Earth.  Boston,  Roberts  Brothers. 
16mo.— Rhoda    Fleming;     A   Story.    New    York,    George 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  51 

Munro.  16mo.  pp.  362.  Seaside  Library,  Pocket  Edition, 
No.  1146.  2  pts. — The  Egoist;  A  Comedy  in  Narrative. 
New  York,  George  Munro.  16mo,  pp.  458.  Seaside 
Library,  Pocket  Edition,  No.  1150.     2  pts. 

1890.  The  Case  of  General  Ople  and  Lady  Camper.  New- 
York,  John  W.  Lovell  Company.  16mo,  pp.  126.  West- 
minster Series,  No.  3. — The  Tale  of  Chloe;  An  Episode 
in  the  History  of  Beau  Beamish.  New  York,  John  W.  Lovell 
Company.     16mo,  pp.  144.     Westminster  Series,  No.  6. 

1891.  The  Case  of  General  Ople  and  Lady  Camper.  New 
York,  George  Munro  (U.  S.  Book  Co).  16mo,  pp.  126. 
Seaside  Library,  Pocket  Edition,  No.  1695.— The  Tale  of 
Chloe;  An  Episode  in  the  History  of  Beau  Beamish.  New 
York,  George  Munro  (U.  S.  Book  Co.).  16mo,  pp.  144. 
Seaside  Library,  Pocket  Edition,  No.  1807. — Diana  of  the 
Crossways.  Chicago,  and  New  York,  Rand,  McNally  and 
Company.  12mo.  Globe  Library. — Modern  Love,  with 
analytic  study  by  Mrs.  E.  Cavazza.  Portland,  Maine, 
Thomas  B.  Mosher.  12mo,  and  also  large  8vo,  pp.  xiv,  50. 
English  Reprint  Series. 

1892.  Modern  Love,  The  Sage  Enamoured  and  The  Honest 
Lady.    Boston,  Roberts  Brothers.     16mo. 

1894.  Lord  Ormont  and  his  Aminta.  New  York,  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons.     16mo,  pp.  442. 

1895.  The  Amazing  Marriage.  New  York,  Charles  Scrib- 
ner's Sons.     16  mo,  2  vols.,  pp.  316,  330. 

1897.  Select  Poems.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
16mo. — An  Essay  on  Comedy  and  the  Uses  of  the  Comic  Spirit. 
New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.     18mo. 

1898.  Modern  Love  and  Other  Poems.  Portland,  Maine, 
Thomas  B.  Mosher.  8vo,  pp.  v,  140.  Old  World  Series  — 
Odes  in  Contribution  to  the  Song  of  French  History.  New 
York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.    8vo,  pp.  94. 

1899.  Whether  We  Live  or  We  Die,  from  The  Shaving  of 
Shagpat  with  a  translation  into  German  by  Kate  Freiligrath 
Kroeker,  set  to  music  by  Frances  Allitsen.  New  York,  G. 
Schirmer.  4to,  pp.  5. — The  Tale  of  Chloe:  an  Episode  in 
the  History  of  Beau  Beamish.  Portland,  Maine,  Thomas  B. 
Mosher.     8vo,  pp.  115.     Old  World  Series. 

1901.  A  Reading  of  Life.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's 
Sons.     12mo,  pp.  128. 


ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

190G.  The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel.  New  York,  The 
Century  Company.  8vo,  pp.  x,  507.  English  Comedie  Hu- 
mainc.     2d  Series. 

1907.  An  Idyll  of  First  Love.  Portland,  Maine,  Thomas 
B.  Mosher.  32mo.  Ideal  Series  of  Little  Masterpieces  (chap- 
ters xv  and  xx  of  The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel). 

1909.  Modern  Love,  with  an  introduction  by  Richard 
Le  Gallienne.  New  York,  Michael  Kennerley.  4to,  pp. 
9,  1. — Love  in  the  Valley  and  Two  Songs,  Chicago.  P.  F. 
Seymoure.  12mo. — George  Meredith's  "  Chillianwallah." 
Jamaica,  New  York,  The  Marion  Press.  4to,  pp.  28. — Last 
Poems.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.     12mo. 

1910.  Celt  and  Saxon.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's 
Sons.     12mo. 

B.      COLLECTED   EDITIONS. 

1898.  Boxhill  Edition.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
8vo. 

April  30.  The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel.  Diana  of  the 
Crossways. 

May  21.  Sandra  Belloni.     Vittoria. 

June  25.  Rhoda  Fleming.     The  Egoist. 

September  3.  The  Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond.  Beau- 
champ's  Career. 

October  8.  Evan  Harrington.    Short  Stories. 

October  29.  The  Shaving  of  Shagpat.  The  Tragic  Come- 
dians. 

November  19.  One  of  Our  Conquerors.  Lord  Ormont  and 
his  Aminta.     The  Amazing  Marriage.     Poems. 

1906.  New  Pocket  Edition.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's 
Sons.     16mo. 

May  12.  Diana  of  the  Crossways.  The  Ordeal  of  Richard 
Feverel.    Sandra    Belloni.     Vittoria. 

June  23.  Beauchamp' s  Career.  The  Egoist.  The  Adven- 
tures of  Harry  Richmond.     Rhoda  Fleming. 

September  8.  Evan  Harrington.  One  of  Our  Conquerors. 
The  Shaving  of  Shagpat.     The  Tragic  Comedians. 

October  6.  The  Amazing  Marriage.  Poems.  Short  Stories. 
Lord  Ormont  and  his  Aminta. 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA 


53 


1910.  Memorial  Edition.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's 
Sons.    8vo. 

January,  Vol.  I.  The  Shaving  of  Shagpat.  Vol.  II.  The 
Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel. 

February,  Vol.  III.  Sandra  Belloni,  I.  Vol.  IV.  Sandra 
Belloni,  II. 

March,  Vol.  V.  Rhoda  Fleming.     Vol.  VI.  Evan  Harrington. 

May,  Vol.  VII.  Vittoria,  I.  Vol.  VIII.  Vittoria,  II.  Vol. 
IX.  The  Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond,  I.  Vol.  X.  The 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond,  II. 

June,  Vol.  XI.  Beauchamp'  s  Career,  I.  Vol.  XII.  Beau- 
champ's  Career,  II.  Vol.  XIII.  The  Egoist,  I.  Vol.  XIV. 
The  Egoist,  II. 

September,  Vol.  XV.  The  Tragic  Comedians.  Vol.  XVI. 
Diana  of  the  Crossways.  Vol.  XVII.  One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors.   Vol.  XVIII.    Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta. 

C.   CONTRIBUTIONS   TO   PERIODICALS. 


1889.  Poems,  (eight  selections  and  a  few  quotations).  The 
Magazine  of  Poetry  (Buffalo,  N.Y.),  1:  347-357,  July-Sept. 

1891.  "The  House  on  the  Beach,"  "The  Case  of  General 
Ople  and  Lady  Camper,"  and  "The  Tale  of  Chloe,"  The 
New  York  Sun.  "One  of  Our  Conquerors,"  The  New  York 
Sun,  Oct.  to  May,  1891. 

1895.  "The  Amazing  Marriage,"  Scribner's  Magazine, 
Vols.  17  and  18,  Jan.  to  Dec. 

1896.  "An  Idyll  of  First  Love,"  The  Bibelot  (Portland, 
Me.),  Vol.  2,  Feb.  (Chapters  xv  and  xx  of  The  Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel  and  The  Meeting,  a  poem.) — "Mrs.  Meynell's 
'Rhythm  of  Life'  and  'Color  of  Life,'  a  review  by  George 
Meredith."    Littell's  Living  Age,  210:  101-12,  Sept.  19. 

1897.  "The  World's  Advance."  Littell's  Living  Age,  215: 
626,  Jan.  22. 

1898.  "Marian."  Littell's  Living  Age,  216:  218,  Jan.  22. 
— "A  Ballad  of  Past  Meridian."  Littell's  Living  Age,  216: 
282,  Jan.  29.— "Earth's  Secret."  Littell's  Living  Age,  217: 
218,  Apr. 23.— "Forest History."  Literature, 3:  11-12,  July9. 

1899.  "Lucifer  in  Starlight."  Littell's  Living  Age,  221 :  228, 
Apr.    22.— "The    Night    Walk."     The    Century   Magazine, 


54  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

58  (N.  S.  36):  566,  Aug.— "Autumn  Evensong"  and  "For 
Heaven  Alone."     Frank  Leslie's  Popular  Monthly,  Oct. 

1900.  "Song  in  the  Songless."  Littell's  Living  Age,  222: 
683,  Sept.  14.— "A  Garden  Idyll."  Scribner's  Magazine,  27: 
214-215,  Feb.  —"To  the  Poor  Man's  Cardinal."  Littell's 
Living  Age,  223:  655,  Dec.  9. 

1901.  "A  Reading  of  Life."  The  Critic,  38:  213-218, 
March.— "The  Hueless  Love."  The  Bookman,  13:  238, 
May. — "Union  in  Disseverance."  The  Book-Buyer,  22: 
387,  June. — "The  Burden  of  Strength."  Littell's  Living 
Age,  229:  550,  June  1. 

1902.  "Lucifer  in  Starlight."  Littell's  Living  Age,  232: 
640,  March  8.— "At  the  Close."  Littell's  Living  Age,  234: 
693,  Sept.  13. 

1905.  "The  Crisis."  The  Literary  Digest,  30:  601,  April 
22.  Littell's  Living  Age,  245:  251-252,  April  22.— "October 
21."     Littell's  Living  Age,  247:  422-423,  Nov.  18. 

1907.  "For  the  Centenary  of  Garibaldi."  Littell's  Living 
Age,  254 :  254-255,  July  27.  The  Literary  Digest,  35 :  173,  Aug. 
3.— "The  Wild  Rose."     Scribner's  Magazine,  42:  668,  Dec. 

1908.  "The  Question  Whither"  and  " Love  in  a  Valley" 
(2  stanzas).  The  Book  News  Monthly  (Philadelphia,  Penn.), 
26:  503-504,  March.— "The  Call."  Littell's  Living  Age, 
258:  578,  Sept.  5.  Collier's  Weekly,  June.— "On  Como." 
Scribner's  Magazine,  4A:  682,  Dec.  The  Literary  Digest, 
37:  856,  Dec.  5.  "Milton."  The  Literary  Digest,  37:  989, 
Dec.  26. 

1909.  "Ireland."  Scribner's  Magazine,  46:  2-3,  July  — 
"Four  Poems."  The  House  Beautiful  (Chicago,  111.),  26: 
72,  Aug.— "The  Years  Had  Worn  their  Season's  Belt." 
Scribner's  Magazine,  46:  407-8,  Oct.  Current  Literature, 
47:  573,  Nov. — "Internal  Harmony."  The  Musician,  14: 
492,  Nov. 

1910.  "Celt  and  Saxon."  The  Forum,  vol.  43,  Jan.-Aug. 
—"Ireland."     Current  Literature,    48:  221,  Feb. 

D.      SELECTIONS    FROM   THE   "WORKS   OF   MEREDITH. 

188S.  The  Pilgrim's  Scrip  or  Wit  and  Wisdom  of  George 
Meredith.     Boston.     Roberts  Brothers.   12mo,   pp.  1,  258. 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  55 

1903.  The  Pilgrim's  Scrip,  by  Sir  Austin  Absworthy 
Bearne  Feverel,  collected  from  The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel. 
New  York.     Scott-Thaw  Co.     12ruo,  pp.  20. 

E.  BOOKS  CONTAINING  CRITICAL  AND  BIOGRAPHICAL  MATTER. 

1888.  The  Pilgrim's  Scrip,  compiled  by  Mrs.  M.  F.  R. 
Gilman.  Boston,  Roberts  Brothers.  12mo.  Introductory 
study  by  the  compiler,  pp.  i-1. 

1890.  Views  and  Reviews — Literature,  by  W.  E.  Henley. 
New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.  16mo.  "George 
Meredith,"  pp.  43-55. 

1891.  Modern  Love.  Portland,  Maine,  T.  B.  Mosher. 
12mo,  also  4to.    Introductory  study  by  E.  Cavazza,  pp.  i-xiv. 

1894.  Overheard  in  Arcady,  by  Droch  [Robert  Bridges]. 
New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.  12mo.  "George 
Meredith,"  pp.  81-93;  also  pp.  117-152. 

1895.  Four  Years  of  Novel  Reading,  edited  by  Richard 
G.  Moulton.  Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  and  Co.  12mo.  "The 
Characterof  ClaraMiddleton,"  by  Joseph  Fairney,  pp.  59-74. 
— Suppressed  Chapters,  by  Droch  [Robert  Bridges].  New 
York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.  12mo.  Pp.  36-39;  55-57; 
148-153. 

1899.  Reminiscences,  by  Justin  McCarthy.  New  York, 
Harper  and  Brothers.  2  vols.,  8vo.  "George  Meredith," 
vol.  i.,  pp.  325-336. — The  Development  of  the  English  Novel, 
by  Wilbur  L.  Cross.  New  York,  The  Macmillan  Company. 
12mo.     "George  Meredith,"  pp.  252-262. 

1902.  Victorian  Prose  Masters,  byW.  C.Brownell.  New 
York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.  8vo.  "George  Meredith," 
pp.  233-289. 

1904.  Browning  and  Meredith,  by  Mary  Winchester  Abbot. 
Boston,  Richard  G.  Badger.     12mo,  pp.  55. 

1905.  The  Makers  of  English  Fiction,  by  W.  J.  Dawson. 
New  York,  Fleming  H.  Revell.  8vo.  "George  Meredith," 
pp.  191-212. 

1906.  The  Confessions  of  a  Young  Man,  by  George  Moore. 
New  York,  Brentano's.    12mo,  pp.  144-148. 

1907.  Shelburne  Essays,  Second  Series,  by  Paul  Elmer 
More.     New  York,  G.  P.    Putnam's   Sons.     12mo.     "The 


56  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

Novels  of  George  Meredith,"  pp.  145-172.— The  Novels  of 
George  Meredith,  A  Study,  by  Elmer  James  Bailey.  New 
York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.     12mo,  pp.  226. 

1909.  Masters  of  the  English  Novel,  by  Richard  Burton. 
New  York,  Henry  Holt  and  Co.  12mo.  "Hardy  and  Mere- 
dith," Chapter  XII,  pp.  262-298.— Modern  Love.  New  York, 
Michael  Kennerley.  4to.  Introductory  study  by  Richard 
Le  Gallienne,  pp.  1-9. 

1910.  Studies  in  Wives,  by  M.  Belloc  Lowndes.  New 
York,  Michael  Kennerley.  12mo.  "According  to  Mere- 
dith," pp.  151-204. — Neither' Dorking  nor  the  Abbey,  by  J. 
M.  Barrie.     Chicago,  Browne's  Book  Store.      12mo. 

F.         PERIODICAL      ARTICLES       CONCERNING      MEREDITH      AND 

HIS     WORKS. 

1876.  "Beauchamp's  Career  by  George  Meredith." 
The  Canadian  Monthly  (Toronto),  9:  341-343,-  April. 

1880.  "The  New  Fiction,"  by  Henry  Holbeach.  Apple- 
ton's  Journal,    23 :  345f . 

1883.  "Mr.  George  Meredith's  Poems  and  Lyrics." 
The  Literary  World,    14:  454,  Dec.  15. 

1885.  London  Letter,"  by  H.  B..  The  Critic,  9:  77,  78, 
Aug.  14. 

1887.  "George  Meredith,"  by  Flora  M.  Shaw.  The  New 
Princeton  Review,  3:  220-229,  March. — "The  Novels  of 
George  Meredith."  The  Literary  World,  18:  137-138,  April 
30. — "A  Word  with  George  Meredith."  The  Atlantic  Monthly, 
59:854-855,  June. — "George  Meredith,"  by  George  B.  Baker, 
Jr.  The  Harvard  Monthly,  4: 138f.,  July-September. — The 
Shaving  of  Shagpat :  review.  The  Literary  World,  18 :  285, 
Sept.  3— "Mr.  George  Meredith's  Novels."  The  Critic,  U(n. 
s.  8) :  205,  206,  Oct.  22. 

1888.  "George  Meredith's  Poems,"  by  George  Parsons 
Lathrop.  The  Atlantic  Monthly, 61 :178-193,  Feb.— "London 
as  a  Literary  Centre,"  by  R.  R.  Bowker.  Harper's  New 
Monthly  Magazine,  77:  3-26,  June.— "Three  Volumes  of 
Verse."  The  Critic,  13 (n.  s.  10) :  242,  Nov.  17.  "An  Interview 
with  George  Meredith,"  by  W.  M.  F.  (William  Morton  Ful- 
lerton).    The  Boston  Advertiser,  Dec.  17. 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  57 

1889.  "The  Homelife  of  George  Meredith."  The  Book- 
Buyer,  pp.  580-2,  Jan.— "Mr.  George  Meredith's  Novels,"  by 
J.  M.  Barrie.  The  Eclectic  Magazine,  49 (n.  s.):  118-126. 
"George  Meredith's  Novels."  The  Critic,  14  (n.  s.  11): 
267,268,  June  1— "  George  Meredith  as  a  Theorist,  "by  Tomp- 
kins McLaughlin.  The  New  Englander  and  Yale  Review 
(New  Haven,  Conn.),  51  (n.  s.  15) :  81-95,  Aug. 

1891.  "A  Visit  to  George  Meredith,"  by  J.  B.  Gilman. 
The  Author,  3:  49,  April. 

1892.  "A  Study  of  Mr.  George  Meredith,"  by  J.  A.  New- 
ton Robinson.  The  Eclectic  Magazine,  55(n.  s.):  124-129. — 
"Mr.  Meredith  in  his  Poems,"  by  Edward  Dowden.  The 
Eclectic  Magazine,  55  (n.  s.) :  650-660,  May. 

1894.  "George  Meredith's  Novels,"  by  Emily  Wheeler. 
The  Chautauquan,  19:561-565,  Aug. 

1895.  "George  Meredith's  Maiden  Speech,"  by  Robert- 
son Nicoll.  The  Bookman,  2:  34-36,  Aug. — "A  Summer  with 
George  Meredith:  In  Particular  Richard  Feverel,"  by  Edith 
L.  Menefee.  Poet  Lore,  7:  505-512,  Oct. — "The  Victory  of 
Aphasia  Gibberish,"  by  Max  Beerbohm.  The  Chap  Book 
(Chicago),  6:  no.  3,  Dec.  15. 

1896.  The  Amazing  Marriage:  reviews.  Public  Opinion, 
20:  56,  Jan.  9.  The  Bookman,  2:  522,  523,  Feb.  "Recent 
Novels,"  by  William  M.  Payne.    The  Dial,  20:  77,  Feb.  1. 

1897.  "Living  Masters:  George  Meredith  and  Hall 
Caine,"  by  D.  C.  Murray.  The  Canadian  Monthly,  8:  411- 
413,  March. — An  Essay  on  Comedy  and  the  Uses  of  the  Comic 
Spirit :  reviews.  The  Book-Buyer,  14 :  199,  March.  The  Liter- 
ary World,  28:  130,  April  17.  The  Dial,  22:  255,  April  16. 
The  Critic,  27:  301,  May  1.  The  Nation,  64:  384,  May  20. 
The  Bookman,  5:  433-434,  July. — "The  Novels  of  George 
Meredith."  Public  Opinion,  23:  180-181,  Aug.  5. — "The 
Poetry  of  George  Meredith,"  Littell's  Living  Age,  214:  224- 
244,  Sept.  4. — Selected  Poems :  reviews.  The  Critic,  28 :  217, 
Oct.  16.  Literature,  1:  69,  Nov.  6.  The  Nation,  65:  459, 
Dec.  9.  The  Literary  World,  28:456,  Dec.  11.  The  Book- 
man, 6:  345,  Dec. — "The  Novels  of  George  Meredith." 
Littell's  Living  Age,  215:  504-520,  Nov.  20. 

1898.  "British  Verse:  George  Meredith  and  Watts- 
Dunton."  PoetLore,  10: 123-127,  Jan. — "Aphorisms  of  Mere" 


58  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

dith."  Current  Literature,  23: 10,  Jan. — "Imitators  of  Mere- 
dith." Literature,  2 :  161-163,  Feb.  12.— "  Note  on  Mr.  George 
Meredith,"  by  A.  Syraons.  Current  Literature,  23:  203-205, 
March. — "Notes et  Reflexions  apropos  des  ceuvres  en  Prose 
de  George  Meredith,"  by  H.  D.  Davray.  Literature,  2:415, 
416,  April  9.— "The  Works  of  Meredith."  The  Outlook, 
59:  183,  May  21. — "Meredith's  Attitude  towards  his  own 
Work."  The  Book  Buyer,  17:  17,  Aug.— "The  Novels  of 
George  Meredith,"  by  Paul  Elmer  More.  The  Atlantic 
Monthly,  84:  484-485,  Oct. — "The  Novels  of  George  Mere- 
dith."    The  Literary  Digest,  19:  491-492,  Oct.  21. 

1899.  "Po6sie  de  George  Meredith,"  by  H.  D.  Davray. 
Literature,  4:  268,  269,  March 31. — "George Meredith."  The 
Bookman,  9:  146-147,  April. — "George  Meredith:  Novelist 
and  Poet,"  by  James  Walter  Young  and  William  Norman 
Guthrie.  The  Sewanee  Review  (Sewanee,  Tenn.),7:  129  f., 
April. — "A  Note  on  Meredith."  Literature,  4:  580,  June  30. 
—"The  Style  of  George  Meredith,"  by  W.  R.  Nicoll. 
The  Bookman,  10: 147  f.,  Oct. 

1900.  "George  Meredith  on  the  Source  of  Destiny," 
by  Emily  G.  Hooker.  Poet  Lore,  12:  238-252,  April- June. 
— "Description  of  George  Meredith."  The  Critic,  37:  390, 
Nov. 

1901.  "The  Obscurity  of  Mr.  Meredith's  Poem."  Pub- 
lic Opinion,  30:  404,  March  28. — "The  Work  of  George 
Meredith."  Current  Literature,  30:  755-756,  June. — A  Read- 
ing of  Life:  reviews.  The  Nation,  73:  152,  Aug.  22.  The 
Critic,  39:  283,  Sept.  (W.  M.  Payne)— The  Dial,  31:  238, 
Oct. — "The  Historic  Place  of  Mr.  Meredith  and  Mr.  Hardy," 
by  Edmund  Gosse.  The  International  Monthly  (Burlington, 
Vt.),  4:299-323,  Sept. 

1902.  "The  Conception  of  Nature  in  the  Poems  of  George 
Meredith,"  by  F.  Melian  Stawell.  The  International  Jour- 
nal of  Ethics,  12:  316-334,  April. — "A  Meredith  Footnote." 
The  Atlantic  Monthly,  89:  866-868,  June. — "A  Knightly 
Pen,"  by  Harriet  Waters  Preston.  The  Atlantic  Monthly, 
90:  506-514,  Oct. — "Meredith  on  his  own  Novels."  Public 
Opinion,  25:  181,  Aug.  11. — "The  Novels  of  George  Mere- 
dith," by  Cornelia  Atwood  Pratt.  The  Critic,  33  (n.  s. 
30):  156-159    Sept.— "The   Works   of    George   Meredith." 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  59 

Literature,  3:  423,  Nov. — Odes  in  Contribution  to  the  Song 
of  French  History:  reviews.  Literature,  3:  485-486,  Nov.  26. 
The  Independent,  50:  1938,  Dec.  29.  The  Critic,  34:  88, 
Jan.,  1896.     (W.  M.  Payne)  The  Dial,  26:55,  Jan.  16,  1899. 

1903.  "Mr.  Meredith  Interviewed."  The  Critic, 42:  306, 
April. — " Dianaof  the  Crossways  and  Lady  Rose's  Daughter," 
by  G.  L.  Beer.  The  Critic,  42:  534-535,  June. — "Meredith's 
Place  as  a  Novelist."  Harper's  New  Monthly  Magazine, 
107:  809,  810,  Oct. 

1904.  "George  Meredith  on  Sir  Leslie  Stephen."  The 
Lamp,  28:  323,  May. — "Literary  Portraits:  I.  George  Mere- 
dith," by  Haldane  MacFall.  The  Canadian  Magazine,  23: 
35-38,  May. — "The  Poetry  and  Philosophy  of  George  Mere- 
dith," by  G.  M.  Trevelyan.  Littell's  Living  Age,  242:  536- 
548,  Aug.  27. — Also  in  The  Eclectic  Magazine,  143 :  503.  "An 
Interview  with  Mr.  Meredith."  The  Critic,  45:  195-196, 
Sept. — "George  Meredith  on  the  Marriage  Tie".  The  Liter- 
ary Digest,  29:  534,  Oct.  22. 

1905.  "A  Parallel"  (Diana  of  the  Crossways  and  George 
Sand).  Scribner's  Magazine, 37:  250-251,  Feb. — "TheEarly 
Novels  of  George  Meredith,"  by  Elizabeth  Luther  Cary. 
The  Critic,  46:  339-346,  April. — "The Penalty  of  Meredith's 
Style."  The  Literary  Digest,  30: 891,  June  17. — "The  Land- 
scape Background  in  George  Meredith's  Writings,"  by  Eliz- 
abeth Luther  Cary.  The  Critic,  46:  52-57,  July.— "The Reli- 
gious Ideas  of  Meredith."  The  Literary  Digest,  31:  214-215, 
Aug.  12. — "The  Optimism  of  Browning  and  Meredith," 
by  A.  C.  Pigou.  Littell's  Living  Age,  246 :  415  f.,  Aug.  12. — 
"The  Tonic  of  George  Meredith's  Poetry,"  by  Annie  Rus- 
sellMarble.  The  Dial,  39: 104-106,  Sept.  1. — "George  Mere- 
dith's Heroines,"  by  Elizabeth  Luther  Cary.  The  Critic, 
47:338-343,  Oct. 

1906.  "Some  Thoughts  Underlying  George  Meredith's 
Poems,"  by  M.  Sturge  Henderson.  The  International  Jour- 
nal of  Ethics,  16:  340-352,  April. — "According  to  Meredith," 
by  M.  Lowndes.  LitteW s  Living  Age,  250:  268-285,  Aug.  4. 
— G.  M.  Trevelyan's  Poetry  and  Philosophy  of  Meredith: re- 
views. The  Nation,  83:  249-250,  Sept.  30. — Littell's  Living 
Age,  250:636-638,  Sept.  8. — "George  Meredith,"  by  Richard 
LeGallienne.  The  North  American  Review,  183:544-547,  Sept. 


60  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

—"According  to  Meredith."  The  Dial,  41 :  193-195,  Oct.  1. 
— "The  Dramatic  Novel,"  by  J.  B.  Henneman.  The  Reader 
(Indianapolis,  Ind.),  8:  680-683,  Nov. — "Meredith:  the  Last 
of  His  Peers,"  by  H.  W.  Nevinson.  The  World  To-Day 
(Chicago,  111.),  11: 1287-1290,  Dec. — "Meredith  as  a  Poet  of 
Love."    Current  Literature,  41:  641-643,  Dec. 

1907.  "George  Meredith,"  by  Henry  Copley  Greene. 
The  Atlantic  Monthly,  99:  771-784,  June.— "A  Half-Forgot- 
ten Romance:  The  Tragic  Comedians,"  by  J.  G.  Huneker. 
The  Bookman,  26:  148-154,  Oct. — "The  Novels  of  George 
Meredith,"  by  Pelham  Edgar.  Littell's  Living  Age,  255: 
95-110,  Oct.  12.— "Treatment  of  Marriage  in  Meredith's 
Novels."  Current  Literature,  43:  518-519,  Nov.— "The 
Poetry  of  George  Meredith,"  by  Pelham  Edgar.  Littell's 
Living  Age,  255:  744-751,  Dec.  21.— "Maurice  Hewlett :  Mere- 
dithian,"  by  Edward  C.  Marsh.  The  Bookman,  26:  361-362, 
Dec. 

1908.  "Will  the  Novels  of  George  Meredith  Endure?" 
Current  Literature,  44: 50 f.,  Jan. — "Meredith  and  his  Exposi- 
tors," by  Edward  Clark  Marsh.  The  Forum,  39:  381-386, 
Jan. -March.— "George  Meredith  at  Eighty,"  by  G.  W. 
Harris.  The  Reviews  of  Reviews,  37 :  183-189,  Feb.— "  George 
Meredith  and  the  World's  Advance,"  by  G.  W.  Harris. 
The  Independent,  69:  359-364,  Feb.  13.— "George  Meredith." 
The  Nation,  86:  163,  Feb.  20— "George  Meredith."  The 
Outlook,  88:  384,  Feb.  22.— "Literary  Impersonality."  The 
Nation,  86: 186-188,  Feb.  27.— "The  Dean  of  English  Novel- 
ists," by  Duncan  Campbell  Scott.  Munsey's  Magazine,  38: 
798-780,  March— "Two  Studies  of  George  Meredith," 
byEunice Follansbee.  The  Dial,  44 :  129-130,  March. — "Mere- 
dith as  Poet."  The  Literary  Digest,  36:  341-342,  March  7.— 
"England  and  Meredith,"  by  George  M.  Trevelyan.  Littell's 
Living  Age,  256:  632-634,  March  7.— "George  Meredith  Num- 
ber." The  Book  News  Monthly,  26,  March.  Contains  :  (1) 
"George  Meredith,"  by  W.  F.  Stead;  (2)  "Symposium,"  by 
Barrie,  Lang,  MacFall,  Nevinson,  and  Trevelyan;  (3)  "A 
Visit  to  George  Meredith,"  by  Charles  F.  Goss;  (4)  "Mere- 
dith and  his  Later  Critics,"  by  Albert  S.  Henry.  Pp.  493-507. 

-"To  George  Meredith"  (poem),  by  E.  S.  Tylee.    Littell's 
Living  Age,  257:  2,  April  4.— "George  Meredith,"  by  Archi- 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  61 

bald  Henderson.  The  North  American  Review,  188:  347-359, 
Sept.— "A  Note  on  Mr.  Meredith's  Modern  Love,"  by  Elmer 
James  Bailey.     The  Forum,  40:  245-254,  Sept. 

1909.  "The  Novels  of  George  Meredith,"  by  Benjamin 
O.  Flower.  The  Arena,  41:  385-390,  March-  June.— "A  Survey 
of  Meredith's  Novels."  Littell's  Uving  Age,  260:  698-703, 
March  13.— "Meredith  as  Poet."  Littell's  Living  Age,  260: 
781-786,  March  27.— "George  Meredith."  The  Nation,  88: 
506  and  512,  May  20.— "George Meredith."  The  Independent, 
66:  1149-1150,  May  27.— "George  Meredith."  The  Outlook, 
92 :  265-267,  May  29— "Meredith's  Failure  to  Win  England." 
The  Literary  Digest,  38:  929,  930,  May  29.— "George  Mere- 
dith." Harper's  Weekly,  53:  1  and  7,  May  29.— "A  Personal 
Visit  to  George  Meredith,"  by  Galbraith  Welch.  The  Fo- 
rum, 81 :  521-527,  June.— "  George  Meredith."  The  Dial,  46 : 
353-355,  June  1.—"  George  Meredith,"  by  Stuart  P.  Sherman. 
The  Nation,  88:  554-557,  June  3.— "A  Great  Writer  of  Fic- 
tion." Littell's  Living  Age,  261:  700-703,  June  12.— "Or- 
phaned by  Meredith."  The  Literary  Digest,  38:  1066-1067, 
June  19. — "George  Meredith:  Novelist."  Harper's  Weekly, 
53 :  6,  June  19.— "  George  Meredith,"  by  May  Sinclair.  The 
Outlook,  92: 413-418,  June  19.— "The  Novels  of  George  Mere- 
dith." Littell's  Living  Age,  261:  805-807,  June  26.— "In 
Memoriam"  (poem).  Littell's  Living  Age,  261:  818,  819, 
June  26.— "George  Meredith,"  by  E.  J.  Putnam.  Putnam's 
Magazine,  6:  446-455,  July. — "George  Meredith,  the  Great 
Psychologist  of  English  Fiction."  Current  Literature,  47: 
49-54,  July. — "Meredith  and  his  Message."  The  Review 
of  Reviews,  40:  112,  113,  July.— "Swinburne  and  Meredith." 
The  Chautauquan,  55:  160-162,  July.— "George  Meredith: 
A  Review,"  by  Edward  C.  Marsh.  The  Bookman,  .19:  511- 
518,  July.— "Two  Personal  Glimpses  of  Meredith,"  by 
Chalmers  Roberts.  The  World's  Work,  18:  11804-11807, 
July.— "G.  M.  1828-1907"  (poem),  by  Thomas  Hardy. 
Littell's  Living  Age,  262:  66,  July  10.— "George  Meredith, 
the  Poet."  Harper's  Weekly,  23:  6,  July  10.— "Meredithian 
Obscurity."  The  Bookman,  29:  660-661,  July  31.— "Mere- 
dith's Dicta."  The  Literary  Digest,  39:  172-173,  Aug.— 
"According  to  Meredith,"  by  M.  Belloc  Lowndes. 
McClure's  Magazine,  34:  444-454,  Aug.— "  George  Meredith," 


62  ELMER.  J.  BAILEY 

by  Annie  Kimball  Tuell.  The  Atlantic  Monthly,  104:  213-218, 
Aug.— "The  Poetry  of  George  Meredith,"  by  J.  Bailey. 
Littell's  Living  Age,  262:  323-333,  Aug.  7.— "The  Moral  Phi- 
losophy of  Meredith,"  by  G.  K.  Chesterton.  Littell's  Liv- 
ing Age,  2G2:  423-427,  Aug.  14.— "After  the  Passing  Bell," 
by  L.  W.  Smith.  The  Independent,  67:  474,  Aug.  26.— "Mere- 
dith and  His  Contemporary  Critics." — The  Bookman,  30: 10- 
15,  Sept. — "George  Meredith:  Teacher."  Harper's  Weekly, 
53:  6,  Sept.  11.— "Meredith"  (poem),  by  Cale  Young  Rice. 
The  Century,!?,  (n.  s.  56):  777,  Sept.— "Meredith  as  a  Pub- 
lisher's Reader,"  by  B.  W.  Matz.  Littell's  Living  Age,  262: 
732-744,  Sept.  18.— "Personal  Recollections  of  Meredith," 
by  Frederick  Jones  Bliss.  The  Century,  78  (n.  s.  56) :  928-31, 
Oct. — "Burning  Convictions  of  Meredith."  Current  Litera- 
ture, 47:  413-415,  Oct.— "Meredith  in  Broken  Doses,"  by 
Archibald  Henderson.  The  Forum,  42:387-390,  Oct.— "George 
Meredith,"  by  Archibald  Henderson.  The  Twentieth  Cen- 
tury Magazine,  1:  99,  Nov. — "Men  I  have  Loved,"  by  Mrs. 
Leslie  Carter.  The  Scrap  Book,  p.  780,  Nov.— "Meredith  as 
a  Critic, ' '  by  William  Dean  Howells.  Harper's  New  Monthly 
Magazine,  120:  149-151,  Dec— "Mr.  Howells  Rebukes  Mere- 
dith." The  Literary  Digest,  39:  1067-1068,  Dec.  11.— "Last 
Poems  of  George  Meredith."  The  Independent,  67: 1511-1512, 
Dec.  30. 

1910.  "Meredith's  Art."  Littell's  Living  Age,  264:  515- 
526,  Feb.  26.— "A  Snap-shot  of  Meredith,"  by  Walter  L. 
Leighton.  The  Twentieth  Century  Magazine,  1:  528-531, 
March.— "Notes  for  Bibliophiles."  The  Nation,  90:  207- 
208,  March  3.— "Meredith:  a  Lover  of  Flowers."  The  Out- 
look, 94:  711-719.— "George  Meredith's  Poetry,"  by  Richard 
Le  Gallienne.     The  Forum,  43:  441-447,  April. 

O.    PORTRAITS    OF    GEORGE    MEREDITH. 

1 .  Photograph  of  George  Meredith  at  the  age  of  35. 
Memorial  Edition  of  Meredith,  New  York,  Charles  Scrib- 
ner's  Sons.    1910.  Vol.  7:  Frontispiece. 

2.  Painting  by  M.  Stein,  photographed  by  Frederick 
Hollyer.  The  Pilgrim's  Script.  Boston,  Roberts  Brothers. 
1888.     Frontispiece.     Harper's  New  Monthly  Magazine,  77: 


MEREDITH  IN  AMERICA  63 

15,  June,  1888.  The  Magazine  of  Poetry  (Buffalo,  N.  Y.), 
1:  346,  July,  1889.  The  Critic,  25  (n.  s.  22):  159,  Sept.  8, 
1894.  Munsey's  Magazine,  38:  798,  March,  1908.  The  Book 
News  Monthly,  26 :  plate,  May,  1908. 

3.  Photograph  by  Roller.  The  Critic  26  (n.  s.  23) :  279, 
April  13,  1895.  Selected  Poems  of  George  Meredith,  New 
York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.  1897.  Frontispiece.  The 
Bookman,  2:  471,  1896.  The  Bookman's  Literary  Year  Book, 
New  York,  Dodd,  Mead  and  Co.  1899.  Frontispiece.  The 
Literary  Digest,  19:  491,  Oct.  21,  1899.  The  Novels  of  George 
Meredith:  A  Study,  by  E.  J.  Bailey,  New  York,  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons.  1907.  The  Book  News  Monthly,  26:  495, 
March,  1908.    The  Review  of  Reviews,  40:  122,  July,  1909. 

4.  Photograph  by  Thompson.  The  Independent,  64: 
361,  Feb.  13,  1908;  also  p.  1038,  May  7,  1908.  The  Literary 
Digest,  36:  341,  March  7,  1908;  also  38:  929,  May  29,  1909. 
Harper's  Weekly,  53 :  3,  May  29,  1909.  Reproduced  in  Etch- 
ing by  Jules  Reich  upon  a  plate  8x10.    New  York. 

5.  Etching  by  Mnepes.     The  Critic,  45:  194,  Sept.,  1904. 

6.  Painting  by  George  Frederick  Watts.  The  Critic, 
43:  497,  Dec,  1903.     The  Canadian  Magazine,  23:  37,  May, 

1904.  The  Review  of  Reviews,  37:  184,  Feb.,  1908.  The  Book 
News  Monthly,  26:  494,  March,  1908.  The  Review  of  Reviews, 
37:184,  Feb.,  1908. 

7.  Portrait  Painted  for  J.  M.  Barrie  by  Amy  Draper 
Sumner.     Scribner's  Magazine,  46:  frontispiece,  July,  1909. 

8.  Photograph  by  Alvin  Langdon  Coburn,  taken  in  Octo- 
ber, 1904.     The  Century  Magazine,   70   (n.  s.  48):  4,  May, 

1905.  The  Independent,  68:  264,  Feb.  3,  1910.  Memorial 
Edition  of  Meredith,  vol.  I,  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's 
Sons.     1910. 

9.  Various  portraits.  The  Book  Buyer,  5:  196,  1888; 
also  5:  581,  1888;  also  12:  120,  1895.  The  Bookman,  2:  471, 
Feb.,  1896;  also  19:  548,  Aug.,  1904;  also  vol.  30,  Sept.,  1909. 
— The  World  To-Day,  9 :  888,  Aug.,  1905.  The  World's  Work, 
18:  11736,  July,  1909.  Putnam's  Magazine,  6:  455,  July, 
1909. 

10.  "Snap  Shots":  "Mr.  George  Meredith  Telling  a 
Story  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clement  Shorter."  The  Critic,  37: 
390,  Nov.,  1900.     "Mr.  George  Meredith  in  Conversation 


64  ELMER  J.  BAILEY 

with  Sarah  Grand."  The  Literary  Digest,  29:  535,  Oct.  22, 
1904;  also  38:  930,  May  30,  1909;  also  detail  showing  Mere- 
dith alone,  30:  891,  June  17,  1905.  "Mr.  Meredith  in  His 
Donkey-Cart."     The  Literary  Digest,  38:  931,  May  30,  1909. 

ADDENDUM. 

1902.  "The  Chorus  is  the  Novels  of  George  Meredith," 
by  Lucy  E.  Fay.  The  University  of  Texas  Record  (Austin, 
Texas),  4:  no.  3,  July. 


AN  ELEMENTARY  COURSE  IN 
OLD  ENGLISH 

BY  ALMA  BLOUNT,  PH.D. 

It  is  a  common  saying  among  educators  that 
no  person  has  a  right  to  think  he  understands 
the  English  language — much  less  has  a  right 
to  try  to  teach  it —  if  he  has  not  studied  gram- 
matical relations  in  the  unmistakable  forms 
of  some  well-inflected  tongue.  The  principle 
is  sound;  yet  it  is,  perhaps,  not  exclusive 
enough  as  a  principle  governing  the  selec- 
tion of  teachers  of  English  grammar,  and 
not  inclusive  enough  as  a  principle  govern- 
ing their  training.  Successful  students  of 
Latin  and  German  are  puzzled  by  the  diffi- 
culties that  confront  them  in  teaching  English 
grammar,  and  are  often  unable  to  answer  reason- 
able questions  propounded  by  the  pupils.  What 
could  the  best  of  Latin  students  say  in  answer 
to  this  question,  which  was  lately  asked  in  a  class 
in  English  grammar :  "  Why  do  we  use  the  indic- 
ative plural  for  the  subjective  singular  in 
'If  I  were  you'?" 

Peculiar  difficulties  arise  in  the  study  of  Eng- 
lish grammar  because  our  language,  once  so 


66  ALMA  BLOUNT 

well  inflected,  is  now  almost  without  grammati- 
cal forms.  Grammatical  relations  of  words, 
therefore,  that  once  would  have  been  made  quite 
clear  by  inflectional  endings,  are  now  obscured, 
and  we  must  turn  for  help  to  the  language  of 
the  earlier  period.  Professor  Francis  A.  March 
has  said:  "Almost  all  our  grammatical  forms 
are  Anglo-Saxon.  The  difficulties  of  our  lan- 
guage, whether  in  spelling,  or  the  irregular 
formation  of  modes  and  tenses,  or  of  plurals 
and  genders,  or  in  the  peculiar  combinations  of 
syntax,  are  almost  all  to  be  referred  to  Anglo- 
Saxon,  and  most  of  them  are  easily  understood; 
they  are  now  difficult  because  they  are  relics 
of  habits  and  forms  which  have  passed  away." 
The  student  of  the  earlier  forms  will  move 
with  confidence  in  many  places  where  others 
will  step  with  hesitation  and  reluctance.  It 
follows,  then,  that  teachers  of  English  grammar 
should  be  acquainted  not  simply  with  the  forms 
and  constructions  of  some  inflected  language, 
but  with  those  of  the  early  period  of  the  lan- 
guage they  profess  to  teach. 

To  study  thoroughly  the  history  of  the  Eng- 
lish language  is  the  task  of  a  life-time.  It  means 
making  some  acquaintance  with  all  of  the  im- 
portant Indo-European  tongues,  especially  with 
those  of  the  Germanic  group;  it  means  the  study 
of  the  relation  of  these  languages  to  one  another, 
and  of  the  changes  they  have  undergone.  This 
thorough  study  can  be  made  only  by  persons 


A  COURSE  IN  OLD  ENGLISH  67 

who  supplement  their  college  course  by  gradu- 
ate study,  and  can  be  expected  of  but  few. 
A  far  less  extensive,  yet  a  very  helpful,  course 
may  be  followed  by  many  persons,  and  should 
be  required  of  all  those  preparing  to  teach  Eng- 
lish grammar  in  the  high  school — possibly  even 
of  those  expecting  to  teach  it  in  the  seventh  and 
eighth  grades  of  the  grammar  school.  The 
object  of  this  paper  is  to  show  what  may  be 
accomplished  in  this  direction  by  telling  what 
is  done  in  one  elementary  Old  English  course. 

The  Department  of  English  in  the  Michigan 
State  Normal  College  offers  an  elective  course 
in  Old  English.  This  course  lasts  through  one 
quarter  (twelve  weeks,  four  hours  weekly),  and 
is  of  necessity  as  elementary  as  possible.  The 
class  numbers  from  fifteen  to  forty  students 
yearly.  Some  of  them  have  had  courses  in 
Latin  or  German,  or  in  both;  others  come  to 
this  work  without  any  previous  training  in 
linguistic  study.  For  these  last  the  first  week 
or  two,  or  even  three,  of  the  quarter  are  often 
somewhat  perplexing  and  discouraging,  but  by 
the  end  of  a  month  or  six  weeks  all  are  work- 
ing intelligently  and  enthusiastically.  Out  of 
the  two  hundred  or  more  who  have  pursued  the 
course  in  the  last  eight  years,  not  half  a  dozen 
have  failed  to  obtain  the  credit,  and  very  few 
have  done  unsatisfactory  work. 

The  text-book  for  this  course  should  provide 
a  simple  explanation  of  Old  English  grammar 


68  ALMA  BLOUNT 

and  plenty  of  selections  of  easy  prose  for  prac- 
tice in  reading.  The  class  referred  to  uses 
Cook's  First  Book  in  Old  English. 

The  teacher  helps  in  the  tiresome  labor  of 
memorizing  the  paradigms  by  placing  them  on 
the  board  before  assigning  them  for  a  lesson, 
and  calling  attention  to  points  of  similarity 
between  the  Old  English  inflections  on  the  one 
hand,  and  those  of  Modern  German  and  Modern 
English  on  the  other.  By  means  of  many  devices 
the  drudgery  of  memorizing  is  reduced  to  a  mini- 
mum, while  the  necessary  forms  are,  neverthe- 
less, thoroughly  committed  to  memory.  The 
teacher  also  endeavors  to  distinguish  carefully 
between  the  essential  and  the  non-essential  in 
assigning  the  paradigms.  It  is  not  necessary 
that  an  elementary  student  should  know  all 
the  confusing  exceptions  and  peculiarities.  It 
is  better  that  he  should  learn  well  the  regular 
paradigms,  and  pick  up  the  variations  later  as 
he  comes  across  them  in  reading.  It  will  prob- 
ably never  be  necessary  for  these  elementary 
students  to  notice  most  of  the  exceptional  forms. 
During  this  form-learning  stage  of  the  study  the 
class  reads,  analyzes,  and  carefully  observes 
the  inflections  in  the  first  selection  in  the  text, 
'The  Creation"  from  Aelfric's  Genesis. 

The  results  of  this  not  very  inspiring  work 
become  apparent  in  about  three  weeks,  the  stu- 
dents being  able  by  that  time  to  begin  reading 
the  very  entertaining  romance  of  "Apollonius 


A  COURSE  IN  OLD  ENGLISH  69 

of  Tyre."  From  this  time  on  the  interest  of 
the  class  steadily  increases.  In  two  or  three 
weeks  more  they  are  reading  ordinary  West- 
Saxon  prose  at  sight,  with  a  little  help  on  the  new 
words  and  peculiar  forms.  The  "Apollonius" 
is  read  before  the  selections  in  the  text  immedi- 
ately following  "The  Creation/'  because  the 
story  furnishes  an  incentive  to  good  translation 
and  rapid  reading.  After  the  "Apollonius"  the 
class  returns  to  the  selections  from  Aelfric,  from 
the  translation  of  Bede,  and  from  Wulfstan; 
and  the  seventy-five  pages  of  prose  in  the  text 
are  easily  finished  in  the  term  of  twelve  weeks. 
As  has  been  said,  the  first  month  of  the  course 
is  devoted  entirely  to  making  the  acquaintance 
of  the  Old  English  language.  After  the  students 
begin  to  read  with  some  ease  and  no  longer  need 
the  whole  class  time  for  drill  on  forms,  a  portion 
of  each  class  hour  is  given  to  the  "practical" 
work  of  the  term — the  historical  explanation  of 
English  inflections.  This  work  is  based  on  such 
material  as  is  found  in  the  histories  of  the  Eng- 
lish Language  by  Emerson,  Lounsbury,  Champ- 
neys,  and  others.  Here,  again,  it  is  necessary  for 
the  teacher  to  adapt  and  limit  the  work  some- 
what, and  to  remember  that  she  is  teaching 
a  normal,  not  a  university  class.  The  interest 
shown  by  the  students  in  historical  grammar  is 
most  gratifying.  They  are  always  alert  and 
eager  to  discover  as  much  as  possible  at  first 
hand.     It  is  practical  for  them  to   trace  out 


70  ALMA  BLOUNT 

many  forms  for  themselves.  After  a  careful 
study  of  the  list  of  changes  English  inflections 
have  suffered,  the  students  may  place  on  the 
board  the  Old  English  paradigms  and  mark  the 
various  "weakenings"  and  losses,  until  the 
modern  forms  are  reached.  At  the  end  of  the 
term,  the  students  should  be  (and  usually  are) 
able  to  speak  intelligently  on  the  following 
subjects: 

1.  The  origin  of  our  modern  noun  inflection — 
s-plurals,  and  s-genitives;  why  this  s  is  pro- 
nounced sometimes  s,  sometimes  z,  and  why 
we  have  sometimes  the  syllable  ez ;  the  voicing  of 
/  in  wolves,  etc.,  and  other  phonetic  peculiari- 
ties; the  origin  of  the  plurals  feet,  men,  teeth, 
mice,  geese,  lice;  children,  brethren,  Peine;  sheep, 
deer,  swine;  two-horse,  five-year,  ten-pound, 
twelve-month,  fortnight,  sennight,  etc. 

2.  The  origin  of  the  comparative  -er  and  of 
the  superlative  -est.  Explanation  of  elder, 
eldest,  beside  older,  oldest.  "Irregular "  compari- 
sons— good,  etc.  The  superlatives  in  -m-ost, 
and  -er-m-ost. 

3.  The  origin  of  our  modern  numerals  and 
articles. 

4.  The  sources  of  our  adverbs;  and  their 
inflection. 

5.  The  origin  of  our  modern  pronoun  declen- 
sions; personal,  demonstrative,  interrogative, 
indefinite,  relative. 

6.  The  derivation  from  Old  English  of  our 


A  COURSE  IN  OLD  ENGLISH  71 

Modern  verb  conjugation — origin  of  -s  (-z,  -ez), 
-eth,  -est,  -ing;  the  principal  parts  of  our  strong 
verbs;  the  use  of  -ed  {-d,  -t)  to  form  the  past 
stem  and  past  participle  of  weak  verbs;  the 
parts  of  weak  verbs  with  phonetic  peculiarities 
(feel,  feed,  sell,  think,  etc.) ;  the  two  infinitives;  the 
forms  of  be  traced  from  Old  English;  the  forms 
of  our  defective  verbs  traced  back  to  Old 
English;  verb-phrases,  with  examples  from  Old 
English,  showing  infinitives  after  may,  can,  etc., 
and  inflected  participles  after  have  and  be. 

In  the  proper  connections,  such  expressions, 
as  "they  be,"  "hissehy  etc.,  are  mentioned 
and  explained. 

7.  The  historical  explanation  of  some  modern 
constructions,  of  which  the  following  are  a  few 
examples : 

a.  Like  and  near  followed  by  the  dative. 

b.  Ask  followed  by  two  accusatives. 

c.  Some  "adverbial  nouns,"  showing  their  case- 
endings. 

d.  The  genitive  added  to  a  noun  ("on  board 
ship"). 

e.  The  adverb  the  from  the  instrumental. 

f.  The  dative,  or  indirect  object. 

g.  The  infinitive  with  the  subject  accusative. 

Old  English  sentences  containing  these  and  other 
constructions  sometimes  incorrectly  expounded 
in  modern  grammars  are  given  to  the  class,  who 
explain  the  modern  syntax  by  comparing  it  with 


72  ALMA  BLOUNT 

the  old  inflected  form.  For  the  historical  devel- 
opment of  a  number  of  idiomatic  phrases  the 
students  are  referred  to  the  New  English  Dic- 
tionary and  other  scholarly  works  with  which 
every  teacher  of  English  grammar  should  be 
familiar. 

In  educational  matters,  as  well  as  in  other 
affairs  of  life,  "the  proof  of  the  pudding  is  in 
the  eating."  Fine  theories  are  all  very  well, 
but  they  are  worth  nothing  unless  they  are 
practical.  It  is  fair,  then,  to  ask  whether  the 
students  in  their  own  teaching  make  any  use 
of  their  Old  English  training.  The  testimony  of 
the  students  must  decide  whether  the  twelve 
weeks  have  been  well  spent.  Their  testimony 
is  derived  from  two  sources:  first,  from  the 
memory  of  their  former  limitations;  and,  sec- 
ondly, from  their  experience  after  making  this 
elementary  study  of  historical  grammar. 

1.  Many  students  in  a  normal  college  are 
men  and  women  of  some  years'  experience  in 
teaching  in  the  public  schools.  They  are  fre- 
quently persons  of  excellent  ability,  who  real- 
ize somewhat  the  limitations  of  their  knowledge 
and  know  exactly  where  to  apply  pedagogically 
the  learning  they  acquire  from  day  to  day. 
These  persons  recognize  at  once  the  practical 
value  of  the  course.  It  is  not  unusual  for  one 
of  them  to  linger  after  the  class  hour  to  say, 
'The  children  have  asked  me  a  hundred  times 
why  foot  has  the  plural  feet,  and  I  never  knew 


A  COURSE  IN  OLD  ENGLISH  73 

before  how  to  explain  it";  "I  shan't  have  to  say 
'I  don't  know'  the  next  time  a  child  asks  me 
why  there  is  no  preposition  before  the  indirect 
object  and  the  adverbial  noun."  The  best  and 
most  mature  students  know  immediately  how 
they  can  use  the  Old  English  course  in  their 
grade  and  high  school  teaching. 

2.  From  not  a  few  students  the  teacher  of 
the  Old  English  course  has  received  word  after 
they  have  left  the  Normal  College.  One  young 
woman,  who  went  into  a  seventh-eighth  grade 
English-history  departmental  position,  wrote, 
"I  used  my  Old  English  text  as  much  as  any 
reference  work  in  preparing  for  my  grammar 
classes."  Another  (not  " stupid,"  but  somewhat 
distracted  by  various  social  obligations),  after 
two  months  of  teaching,  sent  a  small  souvenir, 
"  Just  to  remind  you  of  a  stupid  girl,  who  never- 
theless finds  what  Old  English  she  did  learn  a 
great  benefit  in  her  grammar  work."  Another 
asserted  that  the  simple  historical  material 
she  introduced  into  her  high  school  grammar 
course  was  of  the  greatest  interest  to  the  chil- 
dren, many  of  whom  remained  after  the  class 
period  to  ask  for  more  complete  explanations. 
Similar  testimony  has  come  from  a  great  num- 
ber of  students. 

These  most  gratifying  results  prove  that  the 
course  has  passed  the  experimental  stage.  It 
is  both  possible  and  desirable  to  teach  the  ele- 
ments of  Old  English  and  historical  English 


74  ALMA  BLOUNT 

grammar  to  students  of  the  normal  grade. 
A  similar  course  should  be  offered  in  all  of  our 
normal  schools,  perhaps  in  some  of  our  best 
high  schools  and  academies.  A  little  learning 
is  better  than  none  at  all,  and  not  a  very  dan- 
gerous thing  if  one  understands  perfectly  well 
that  he  has  only  a  little.  How  infinitely  much 
less  complaint  we  should  hear  about  the  dead- 
ness  of  the  teaching  of  language,  about  the 
mechanical  dullness  of  the  class  in  grammar,  if 
the  instructors  were  properly  prepared  for  their 
work ;  if  they  had  such  an  insight  into  linguistic 
principles  as  this  course,  limited  though  it  is, 
would  give  to  them!  Their  own  interest  would 
be  stimulated  by  better  preparation ;  and  on  the 
intelligent  enthusiasm  of  the  teacher  depends 
his  power  to  inspire  interest  in  the  pupils. 

It  is  practical  also  to  ask  what  preparation 
the  teacher  needs  who  shall  undertake  to  give 
this  elementary  course  in  Old  English.  It  goes 
without  saying  that  he  needs  considerably  more 
than  elementary  training  if  he  is  to  teach  the 
elements  successfully.  An  interested  class  is 
full  of  proper  curiosity  to  know  more,  and  this 
curiosity  expresses  itself  in  questions.  If  the 
teacher  is  to  keep  up  the  interest,  he  cannot 
too  often  answer  "I  don't  know";  and  when  he 
must  say,  "I  don't  know,"  he  should  usually  be 
able  to  add,  "but  I'll  find  out."  It  is  most 
desirable  that  the  teacher  of  elementary  Old 
English  should  have  some  acquaintance  with 


A  COURSE  IN  OLD  ENGLISH  75 

the  Gothic  language,  with  Germanic  and  Com- 
parative Philology,  and  with  the  principles  of 
phonetics.  If  he  stimulates  properly  the  minds 
of  the  students,  he  will  have  to  answer  many 
such  questions  as: — "What  is  umlaut?"  "Is 
there  any  explanation  for  the  vowel  change  in 
weak  verbs  like  secean,  sohte?"  "Is  ablaut  found 
in  other  languages?"  Besides  being  properly 
prepared  with  the  information  necessary  to 
satisfy  such  questions,  the  teacher  should  have 
the  tact  and  judgment  to  answer  them  simply 
and  clearly,  using  few  technical  terms,  and  re- 
membering that  he  is  explaining  to  an  elemen- 
tary, not  a  university  class. 

If  it  be  asked  where  teachers  may  be  obtained 
for  these  courses,  it  may  be  answered  that  the 
demand  will  create  the  supply.  We  have  plenty 
of  material  in  our  great  universities — profes- 
sors, students,  courses,  books — and  the  opening 
of  positions  would  call  men  and  women  to  pre- 
pare themselves  to  instruct  in  this  interesting 
field.  On  the  other  hand,  those  who  at  present 
appreciate  the  value  of  historical  grammar 
must  work  to  show  the  world  of  teachers  its 
need,  and  thus  create  the  demand. 

May  I  add  as  a  corollary  a  word  of  personal 
experience  as  to  the  use  of  historical  material  in 
an  ordinary  grammar  class?  I  have,  at  first 
with  fear  and  trembling,  made  historical  expla- 
nations when  they  seemed  to  me  the  only  cor- 
rect ones  to  make,    I  have  been  surprised  and 


76  ALMA  BLOUNT 

gratified  at  the  avidity  with  which  the  good 
students  pick  up  these  morsels  of  historical 
grammar  that  fall  in  their  way.  In  answer  to 
the  question  mentioned  above — "  Why  do  we  use 
the  indicative  plural  for  the  subjunctive  sing- 
ular?"— I  put  on  the  board  wees,  wxron,  ivsere, 
ivceren,  and  explained  the  significance  of  the 
forms  and  the  loss  of  the  endings.  The  student, 
who  knew  no  more  of  Old  English  than  he  did 
of  Chinese,  was  perfectly  able  to  comprehend 
the  explanation.  In  a  class  of  normal  or  high- 
school  grade  many  similar  explanations  may 
profitably  be  made.  Regarding  the  introduc- 
tion of  such  material  into  the  elementary  gram- 
mar classes  below  the  high  school,  several  of 
my  advanced  students  have  expressed  them- 
selves as  holding  opinions  much  more  radical 
than  I  should  dare  profess.  One  young  woman, 
who  had  already  been  for  several  years  a  suc- 
cessful teacher  in  the  grades,  writing  a  lesson  on 
the  indirect  object  for  a  class  which  could  not 
be  expected  to  understand  the  term  dative, 
insisted  on  mentioning  the  fact  that  there  was 
once  an  ending  on  the  noun  and  a  form  of  the 
pronoun  that  expressed  the  relation  to,  for,  and 
made  a  preposition  unnecessary.  In  her  opin- 
ion the  teacher  would  add  greatly  to  the  inter- 
est of  her  lessons  if  she  would  introduce  into 
them  many  such  facts  and  explanations  not 
usually  found  in  text-books  for  those  grades, 
and  perhaps  better  introduced  by  the  teacher 
than  by  the  text. 


A  COURSE  IN  OLD  ENGLISH  77 

In  thus  urging  the  more  thorough  and  vital 
study  of  English  as  a  language,  I  do  not  intend 
to  imply  that  such  study  can  or  should  supplant 
the  school  work  in  literature  and  composition. 
A  habit  of  intelligent  reading  and  the  ability  to 
express  one's  thought  in  words  are  two  of  the 
most  important  gifts  education  can  bring  to 
any  person.  But  grammar,  ideally  taught, 
should  aid  in  the  scholarly  study  of  both  litera- 
ture and  composition.  It  should  make  the  stu- 
dent more  accurate  in  interpretation  and  more 
exact  in  sentence  construction.  Moreover, 
grammar  is  one  of  the  standard  studies  of  the 
grammar  school,  and  of  the  normal  school, 
and  often  of  the  high  school.  It  is  very  fre- 
quently ill-taught,  usually  because  the  teachers 
are  ill-prepared,  and  are  therefore  obliged  to 
be  dogmatic  and  mechanical.  Why  should  we 
not  insist  upon  improvement  in  the  teaching 
of  the  third  branch  of  the  English  trilogy,  as 
well  as  in  that  of  the  other  two? 


\ 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  EYE 
IN  COLERIDGE 

BY  LANE  COOPER 

Every  one  will  recall  what  a  distinctive  mark 
of  the  chief  personage  in  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient 
Mariner  is  his  'glittering  eye';  and  it  will  not 
be  forgotten  that  in  a  stanza  contributed  by 
Wordsworth  to  the  opening  of  the  ballad  by  his 
friend,  the  Mariner  is  represented  as  exercising 
through  the  gleam  of  his  eye  a  notable  power 
of  hypnotic  fascination: 

He  holds  him  with  his  glittering  eye — 
The  Wedding-Guest  stood  still, 
And  listens  like  a  three  years'  child: 
The  Mariner  hath  his  will.1 


1  A.  M.  13-16.  Throughout  this  paper  italics  are  used  in 
order  to  draw  attention  to  certain  catchwords  or  stock 
phrases  in  the  poet's  vocabulary,  e.g.,  bright,  bright-eyed, 
glitter,  glittering,  fixed,  stood  still,  etc.  And  the  following 
abbreviations  are  employed:  A.  M.  (  =  The  Rime  of  the 
Ancient  Mariner,  in  the  final  text  of  1829  as  reprinted  by 
Campbell);  A.  M.,  1  ed.  (  =  the  original  text  of  the  same 
poem  in  Lyrical  Ballads,  1798,  as  reprinted  by  Campbell) ; 
P.  W.  (=  the  Poetical  Works  of  Coleridge,  edited  by  Camp- 
bell); and  P.  B.  (  =  Wordsworth's  Peter  Bell). 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  79 

That  is,  the  Mariner  has  his  own  way  with  the 
Wedding-Guest,  as  the  Sun,  later  on  in  the  poem, 
has  his  way  with  the  ship : 

The  sails  at  noon  left  off  their  tune, 
And  the  ship  stood  still  also. 

The  Sun,  right  up  above  the  mast, 
Had  fixed  her  to  the  ocean.2 

At  first  reading,  one  might  suppose  the  mean- 
ing to  be  that  the  Mariner  had  control  of  the 
Wedding-Guest's  will — which  of  course  is  true. 
But  it  is  not  precisely  what  is  said,  as  may  be 
gathered  from  a  stanza,  subsequently  omitted, 
in  the  original  version  of  the  ballad : 

Listen,   O  listen,   thou  Wedding-guest! 

'Marinere!  thou  hast  thy  will: 
For  that  which  comes  out  of  thine  eye  doth  make 

My  body  and  soul  to  be  still.'3 

The  Wordsworthian  lines  commencing,  'He 
holds  him  with  his  glittering  eye,'  and  the  general 
Coleridgean  notion  in  them,  are  sufficiently 
familiar,  as  is  also  the  gloss  which  accompanies 
them:  'The  Wedding-Guest  is  spell-bound  by 
the  eye  of  the  old  seafaring  man,  and  constrained 
to  hear  his  tale.'4 

However,  it  is  not  probable  that  among  stu- 
dents of  Coleridge  the  frequency  with  which 

2  A.  M.  381-4. 

3  A.M.,  led.,  362-5. 

4  Marginal  gloss  to  A.  M.  13-16. 


80  LANE  COOPER 

the  idea  of  an  ocular  hypnosis  or  the  like  arises 
in  the  mind  of  the  poet  has  been  duly  observed, 
so  that  his  full  meaning  in  several  otherwise 
well-known  passages  may  easily  escape  the 
general  reader.  Accordingly,  I  propose  to  col- 
lect a  number  of  extracts  from  Coleridge  in 
which  this  notion  is  altogether  patent;  to  add 
to  these  certain  other  extracts  in  which  it  may 
be  only  suggested,  or  is  concealed,  proceeding  in 
such  a  way  that  the  less  may  receive  light  from 
the  more  obvious;  and  to  supply  still  further 
material,  some  of  it  drawn  from  remoter  sources, 
that  can  be  made  to  bear  upon  the  particular 
subject  of  this  study.  Our  study,  therefore,  will 
involve  an  examination  of  passages  from  Lewti, 
The  Three  Graves,  Kubla  Khan,  The  Rime  of  the 
Ancient  Mariner  in  the  first  as  well  as  the  final 
and  accepted  version,  Christabel,  The  Nightin- 
gale, Osorio,  etc.;  it  will  include  some  descrip- 
tion of  Coleridge's  appearance — for  example, 
the  look  of  his  eye — and  some  account  of  his 
interest  in  animal  magnetism  and  ocular  fascina- 
tion; it  will  touch  upon  the  widespread  interest 
during  the  earlier  part  of  Coleridge's  life  in 
Friedrich  Anton  Mesmer  and  his  cult  of  mag- 
netizers;  and,  among  other  things,  it  will  allude 
to  certain  differences,  casual  as  well  as  intended, 
between  Coleridge  and  Wordsworth  in  their 
treatment  of  what  is  called  the  'supernatural'. 
It  hardly  needs  to  be  said  that  the  present  writer, 
being  neither  an  adept  in  the  secrets  of  animal 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  81 

magnetism,  nor  versed  in  the  immense  literature 
on  this  and  related  topics,  does  not  concern 
himself  with  any  question  as  to  the  reality  of 
the  hypnotic  influences  issuing,  or  thought 
to  issue,  from  the  human  eye,  but  only  with 
Coleridge's  opinion  as  to  their  reality  or  like- 
lihood. For  the  history  of  the  subject  the  reader 
may  consult  the  standard  work  by  Binet  and 
Fer£,5  Charles  Mackay's  Memoirs  of  Extraordi- 
nary Popular  Delusions,6  or,  if  they  are  accessi- 
ble, some  of  the  older  treatises  of  which  Cole- 
ridge himself  makes  mention — among  them,  and 
especially,  that  by  Kluge.7  I  have  not  been 
able  to  obtain  this. 

As  for  Coleridge  himself,  it  may  be  assumed 
that  he  was  conscious  of  a  power  that  seemed 
to  dwell  in  his  own  eye.  Thus  in  the  Hexameters 
addressed  to  William  and  Dorothy  Words- 
worth, and  written,  as  their  author  says,  'dur- 
ing a  temporary  blindness  in  the  year  1799', 
he  exclaims : 

O!  what  a  life  is  the  eye  I  what  a  fine  and  inscrutable 
essence  l8 

6  Animal  Magnetism,  New  York,  Appleton,  1890.  See  also 
the  historical  sketch  at  the  beginning  of  Albert  Moll's  Hyp- 
notism, New  York,  1890. 

8  London,  Routledge,  1869  (volume  1,  pp.  262-295,  The  Mag- 
netizers). 

7  Carl  Alexander  Kluge,  Versuch  einer  Darstellung  des 
Animalischen  Magnetismus,  Berlin,  1815  (first  edition,  1811). 
The  work  was  widely  translated. 

8  P.  W.,  p.  138. 


82  LANE  COOPER 

And  even  in  ordinary  conversation  he  must 
have  experienced,  to  an  unusual  degree,  the 
sense  of  control  over  his  audience  which  in  the 
born  orator  we  often  attribute  to  his  direct, 
or,  as  we  call  it,  'piercing'  glance.  In  fact, 
Carlyle  bears  testimony  to  something  of  the 
sort  in  Coleridge,  when  the  latter  was  an  elderly 
and  broken  man,  long  after  the  halcyon  days 
when  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner  and 
Christabel  were  taking  shape.  Says  Carlyle: 
'  I  have  heard  Coleridge  talk,  with  eager  musi- 
cal energy,  two  stricken  hours,  his  face  radiant 
and  moist,  and  communicate  no  meaning  what- 
soever to  any  individual  of  his  hearers — certain 
of  whom,  I  for  one,  still  kept  eagerly  listening 
in  hope.'9  The  Sage  of  Highgate  evidently 
needed  to  lay  no  hand  upon  that  chosen  guest 
whom  he  would  detain  from  the  pleasures  of 
the  world  at  his  feast  of  reason  and  flow  of  soul. 
In  his  prime  he  was  not  less  magnetic.  'From 
Carlyon  we  learn  that  Coleridge  dressed  badly, 
"but  I  have  heard  him  say,  fixing  his  prominent 
eyes  upon  himself  (as  he  was  wont  to  do  when- 
ever there  was  a  mirror  in  the  room),  with  a 
singularly  coxcombical  expression  of  counte- 
nance, that  his  dress  was  sure  to  be  lost  sight 
of  the  moment  he  began  to  talk,  an  assertion 
which,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  its  modesty, 
was  not  without  truth."  '10 

•  Carlyle,  Life  of  John  Sterling:  Works  (1904)  11.56. 
10  Campbell,  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  p.  99. 


\ 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  83 

That  there  was  something  unusual,  if  not 
captivating,  in  his  look  may  be  inferred,  if 
only  from  the  strange  and  conflicting  reports 
(brought  together  by  Dr.  Haney)as  to  the  actual 
color  of  his  eyes.  They  were,  of  course,  large 
and  gray,  as  his  most  intimate  friends  specific- 
ally affirm.    Wordsworth  calls  him 

A  noticeable  man,  with  large  gray  eyes.11 

And  Dorothy  Wordsworth,  writing  to  a  friend 
a  year  or  so  before  the  composition  of  The  Rime 
of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  says  of  Coleridge: 
'His  eye  is  large  and  full,  not  dark  but  gray; 
such  an  eye  as  would  receive  from  a  heavy  soul 
the  dullest  expression,  but  it  speaks  every 
emotion  of  his  animated  mind.  It  has  more  of 
"the  poet's  eye  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling"  than 
I  ever  witnessed.  He  has  fine  dark  eyebrows, 
and  an  overhanging  forehead.'12  Several  other 
references  to  Coleridge's  eyes  may  be  given 
summarily.  Carlyle:  'The  deep  eyes,  of  a 
light  hazel,  were  as  full  of  sorrow  as  of  inspira- 
tion.' Carlyle  (on  another  occasion) :  'A  pair  of 
strange,  brown,  timid,  yet  earnest  looking  eyes.' 
Emerson :  '  Bright  blue  eyes,  and  fine  clear  com- 
plexion.'   Armstrong:   'The  quick,  yet  steady 

11  Stanzas  Written  in  my  Pocket-copy  of  Thomson's  'Castle 
of  Indolence'  39. 

12  Letters  of  the  Wordsioorth  Family,  ed.  Knight,  1.109. 
For  other  references  to  Coleridge's  appearance  I  am  indebted 
to  the  interesting  article  by  Dr.  John  Louis  Haney,  The 
Color  of  Coleridge' s  Eyes,  Anglia  23.424  ff. 


84  LANE  COOPER 

and   penetrating   greenish-gray   eye.'     Winter 
(an  imaginary  portrait):  'The  great,  luminous, 
changeful  blue  eyes.'     Leapidge  Smith:  'Eyes 
not  merely  dark,  but  black,  and  keenly  pene- 
trating.'    De  Quincey  (who,  like  the  following, 
was  a  more  trustworthy  observer  than  some  of 
the  foregoing) :  'His  eyes  were  large,  and  in  color 
were   gray.'      Hazlitt:  'Large,  projecting   eye- 
brows, and  his  eyes  rolling  beneath  them  like 
a  sea  with  darkened  lustre.'     Henry  Nelson 
Coleridge:  'His  large  gray  eyes,  at  once  the 
clearest    and    the    deepest   that  I  ever  saw.' 
Harriet  Martineau :  'His  eyes  were  as  wonderful 
as  they  were  represented  to  be— light  gray,  ex- 
tremely prominent,  and  actually  "glittering." 

Much  of  the  discrepancy  in  these  reports  may 
be  set  down  to  haste  and  carelessness  in  observa- 
tion—Emerson,   for   example,    is   not    always 
trustworthy  on  minor  details;  but,  as  we  may 
gather  from  Dorothy  Wordsworth,  Coleridge's 
eyes,   even  before  he  began  to   take  opium, 
might,  under  varying   stress   of   emotion,   go 
through  a  considerable  range  of  appearance. 
As    often    happens    with    emotional    subjects, 
his  pupils  were  likely  to  suffer  a  striking  dila- 
tation,  followed   by   intense   contraction,   the 
latter  state  having  the  effect  which  we  know  as 
a  'glitter'.    At  all  events  it  doubtless  is  right 
to  believe  that  in  a  measure  the  '  glittering  eye' 
of  the  Ancient  Mariner  is  the  counterpart  of  an 
effect  sometimes  visible  in  the  poet;  and,   if 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  85 

there  be  such  a  thing  as  the  hypnotic  glance, 
there  is  nothing  unreasonable  in  imagining 
that  Coleridge  possessed  it. 

In  any  case,  if  the  existence  of  such  a  thing 
were  affirmed,  Coleridge  was  bound  to  be  inter- 
ested, as  in  any  of  those  mysterious  phenomena 
which  he  termed  'facts  of  mind'.  Thus  in  a 
compendious  description  of  himself  which  he 
sent  to  Thelwall  in  1796,  he  remarks:  'Meta- 
physics and  poetry  and  "facts  of  mind",  that 
is,  accounts  of  all  the  strange  phantasms  that 
ever  possessed  "your  philosophy"  .  .  .are 
my  darling  studies.'13  Though  any  systematic 
account  of  the  studies  in  animal  magnetism 
entered  into  by  so  discursive  and  unmethodical 
a  reader  as  Coleridge  is  scarcely  possible,  there 
is  some  ground  for  supposing  that  in  his  earlier 
years  he  was  more  prone  to  believe  in  a  'fact 
of  mind', such  as  ocular  hypnosis,  than  he  was  in 
later  life.  His  allusions  to  cures  by  suggestion 
among  the  American  Indians,  as  recorded  in 
Hearne's  Hudson's  Bay,  and  to  similar  occur- 
rences among  the  negroes  of  whom  he  read  in 
Bryan  Edwards'  West  Indies,14  and  indeed  the 
use  to  which  he  puts  his  information  on  these 
matters  in  Osorio  and  the  poems  designed  for 
Lyrical  Ballads,  all  point  to  a  less  critical  attitude 

18  Letter  of  Nov.  19,  1796.  Letters  of  Samuel  Taylor  Cole- 
ridge, ed.  E.  H.  Coleridge,  1.181. 

14  P.  W.,  p.  590.  Cf.  Hearne,  pp.  193  ff.,  218  ff ;  Edwards, 
Book  4,  Chap.  3. 


86  LANE  COOPER 

in  the  young  Coleridge  than  we  find  in  the  Cole- 
ridge of  Table  Talk  and  Highgate.  At  Highgate 
he  has  become  the  cautious  philosopher.  It  is 
therefore  characteristic  of  him  to  say,  under 
Table  Talk  for  April  30,  1830:  'My  mind  is  in  a 
state  of  philosophical  doubt  as  to  animal  magnet- 
ism. Von  Spix,  the  eminent  naturalist,  makes 
no  doubt  of  the  matter,  and  talks  coolly  of  giving 
doses  of  it.'  Yet  he  goes  on : '  The  torpedo  affects 
a  third  or  external  object,  by  an  exertion  of  its 
own  will ;  such  a  power  is  not  properly  electric- 
al; for  electricity  acts  invariably  under  the 
same  circumstances.'  And  he  adds:  'A  steady 
gaze  will  make  many  persons  of  fair  complexions 
blush  deeply.    Account  for  that.'15 

However,  he  had  already  given  as  it  were  his 
final  utterance  on  this  head  some  years  before 
1830.  Between  1820,  when  Southey's  Life  of 
Wesley  appeared,  and  August,  1825,  when  Cole- 
ridge wrote  the  words  in  which  he  bequeathed 
his  personally  annotated  copy  of  this  work  to 
its  author,  he  had  composed  a  long  marginal 
memorandum  on  the  similarity  of  the  religious 
trances  among  the  Wesleyan  Methodists  to 
the  trances  induced  by  the  magnetizers.  On 
the  credibility  of  the  phenomena  said  to  occur 
during  the  magnetic  trances,  he  observes : 

'Among  the  magnetizers  and  attesters  are 
to  be  found  names  of  men  ...  of 
integrity  and  incapability  of  intentional  false- 

16  Coleridge,  Works,  ed.  Shedd,  6.302. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  87 

hood  .  .  .  Cuvier,  Hufeland,  Blumenbach, 
Eschenmeyer,  Reil,  etc.  .  .  .  Nine  years 
has  the  subject  of  zoomagnetism  been  before  me. 
I  have  traced  it  historically,  collected  a  mass 
of  documents  in  French,  German,  Italian,  and 
the  Latinists  of  the  sixteenth  century,  have 
never  neglected  an  opportunity  of  question- 
ing eye-witnesses,  e.  g.,  Tieck,  Treviranus,  De 
Prati,  Meyer,  and  others  of  literary  or  medical 
celebrity,  and  I  remain  where  I  was,  and  where 
the  first  perusal  of  Klug's  work  had  left  me,  with- 
out having  moved  an  inch  backward  or  forward. 
The  reply  of  Treviranus,  the  famous  botanist, 
to  me,  when  he  was  in  London,  is  worth  record- 
ing: .  .  .  "I  have  seen  what  I  am  cer- 
tain I  would  not  have  believed  on  your  telling 
and,  in  all  reason,  I  can  neither  expect  nor 
wish  that  you  should  believe  on  mine."  '16 

If  the  perusal  of  C.  A.  Kluge's  ( =  'Klug's') 
work  left  him  in  an  enduring  state  of  'philo- 
sophical doubt',  to  track  Coleridge  through  the 
labyrinth  of  his  subsequent  futile  investiga- 
tions would  not  seem  to  be  urgently  demanded ; 
and  we  may  merely  observe  that  he  owned  a 
copy  of  this  treatise  in  the  edition  of  1815. 17 
If  he  read  this  edition  in  the  year  of  its  issue, 
the  'nine  years'  of  persistent  study  would 
bring  the  date  of  his  marginal  note  in  Southey's 
volume  down  to  1824.    But  even  if  he  had  seen 

18  Coleridge,  Works,  ed.  Shedd,  6.303. 

17  See  Haney's  Bibliography  of  Coleridqe,  under  'Margin- 
alia' (p.  119,  No.  180). 


88  LANE  COOPER 

Kluge  in  the  edition  of  1811,  how  are  we  to  ex- 
plain the  long  gap  in  his  interest  between  1797- 
98,  when  he  had  read  Hearne  and  Edwards, 
and  was  writing  The  Three  Graves  and  The  Rime 
of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  and  1811,  or  later,  when 
he  began  his  alleged  comprehensive  researches?18 
It  may,  indeed,  be  the  case  that  the  date  of  his 
marginal  note  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  bequest 
to  Southey,  1825,  and  that  his  preoccupation 
with  annual  magnetism  began  just  nine  years 
earlier  than  this,  namely,  1816,  when  he  put 
himself  under  the  medical  care,  and  was  re- 
ceived under  the  roof,  of  James  Gillman  at 
Highgate.  In  the  library  of  a  well-to-do  physi- 
cian, who  was  also  a  man  of  no  slight  intellectual 
curiosity,  the  poet  would  at  that  time  be  almost 
certain  to  find  a  number  of  books  dealing  with 
the  subject.19  However  this  may  be,  it  is  clear, 

18  See,  however,  Mackay,  Extraordinary  Popular  Delu- 
sions 1.291:  'During  the  first  twelve  years  of  the  [nine- 
teenth] century  little  was  heard  of  animal  magnetism  in  any 
country  of  Europe.  Even  the  Germans  forgot  their  airy 
fancies  ,  recalled  to  the  knowledge  of  this  every-day  world 
by  the  roar  of  Napoleon's  cannon  and  the  fall  or  the  estab- 
lishment of  kingdoms.  During  this  period  a  cloud  of  ob- 
scurity hung  over  the  science,  which  was  not  dispersed  until 
M.  Deleuze  published,  in  1513,  his  Histoire  Critique  du  Mag- 
netisme  Animal.  This  work  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the 
half -forgotten  fancy.  Newspapers,  pamphlets,  and  books 
again  waged  war  upon  each  other  on  the  question  of  its 
truth  or  falsehood;  and  many  eminent  men  in  the  profes- 
sion of  medicine  recommenced  inquiry  with  an  earnest  design 
to  discover  the  truth.' 

19  Compare  Coleridge,  Miscellanies,  etc.,  ed.  Ashe,  1885, 
pp.  351,  365  (footnote),  408,  410,  etc. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  89 

as  Dykes  Campbell  points  out,  that  by  June, 
1817,  Coleridge  had  become  deeply  enough 
engrossed  to  think  of  writing  a  popular  work  of 
his  own  on  animal  magnetism, '  a  proposal  which 
he  renewed  (to  Curtis)  eighteen  months  later, 
when  his  old  teacher,  Blumenbach,  had  recanted 
his  [disjbelief  in  it.  And  since  he  thereupon 
'offered  to  contribute  an  historical  treatise  to 
the  Encyclopedia  Metropolitana,'  the  idea  may 
possibly  not  have  been  so  easily  relinquished 
as  were  some  of  his  numerous  other  literary 
projects.  Campbell  also  refers  to  a  contem- 
porary letter  (August,  1817)  in  which  Southey, 
writing  to  his  wife,  anticipates  the  nature  of  a 
visit  which  he  is  about  to  pay  Coleridge:  'He 
will  begin  as  he  did  when  last  I  saw  him,  about 
Animal  Magnetism,  or  some  equally  congruous 
subject,  and  go  on  from  Dan  to  Beersheba  in  his 
endless  loquacity.'20  Coleridge's  letter  of  Decem- 
ber 1,  1818,  to  Curtis,  though  rather  long,  may 
be  quoted  in  full : 

'Dear  Sir:  Sometime  ago,  I  ventured  to 
recommend  an  article  on  Animal  Magnetism, 
purely  historical,  for  the  Encylopedia  Metropol- 
itana. Since  then  the  celebrated  Professor 
Blumenbach,  for  so  man}^  years  the  zealous 
antagonist  of  Animal  Magnetism,  has  openly 
recanted  his  opinion  in  three  separate  para- 
graphs of  his  great  work  on  Physiology,  which  is 


on 


P.  W.,  Introduction,  p.  cii. 


90  LANE  COOPER 

a  text  book  in  all  the  hospitals  and  Medical 
Universities  in  Europe;  and  this  too  happens  to 
be  in  the  edition  from  which  Dr.  Elliotson  has 
recently  translated  the  work  into  English.  Cu- 
vier  had  previously  published  his  testimony, 
viz.  that  the  facts  were  as  undeniable  as  they 
were  difficult  to  be  explained  on  the  present 
theory.  The  great  names  of  Hufeland,  Meckel, 
Reil,  Autenrieth,  Soemerring,  Scarpa,  etc.,  etc., 
appear  as  attesters  of  the  facts,  and  their  inde- 
pendence of  the  imagination  of  the  patients. 
To  these  must  be  added  the  reports  delivered  in 
the  courts  of  Berlin  and  Vienna  by  the  several 
committees  appointed  severally  by  the  Prussian 
and  Austrian  governments,  and  composed  of 
the  most  eminent  physicians,  anatomists,  and 
naturalists  of  the  Prussian  and  Austrian  States. 
In  this  country,  the  rising  opinion  of  our  first 
rate  medical  men  is  that  the  subject  must  sooner 
or  later  be  submitted  to  a  similar  trial  in  this 
country,  in  order  that  so  dangerous  an  imple- 
ment (if  it  should  prove  to  be  a  new  physical 
agent  akin  to  the  galvanic  electricity)  may  be 
taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the  ignorant  and  de- 
signing, as  hath  already  been  done  on  the  Conti- 
nent by  very  severe  Laws.  Putting  the  truth 
or  falsehood  of  the  theory  wholly  out  of  the 
question,  still  it  is  altogether  unique,  and  such 
as  no  history  of  the  present  age  dare  omit. 
Nay,  it  may  be  truly  said  that  it  becomes  more 
interesting,  more  important,  on  the  supposition 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  91 

of  its  falsehood  than  of  its  truth,  from  the  great 
number  and  wide  dispersion  of  celebrated  indi- 
viduals, of  the  highest  rank  in  science,  who  have 
joined  in  attesting  its  truth;  especially  as  the 
largest  part  of  these  great  men  were  for  a  long 
time  its  open  opponents,  and  all,  with  the  single 
exception  of  Cuvier,  its  avowed  disbelievers. 
Add  to  this  that  as  an  article  of  entertainment, 
and  as  throwing  a  new  light  on  the  oracles  and 
mysteries  of  Greek,  Roman,  and  Egyptian 
Paganism,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  point  out 
its  rival.  These  are  the  grounds  on  which  I 
rest  my  continued  recommendation  of  such  an 
article  as  well  worthy  the  attention  of  the  con- 
ductors of  your  great  work.  One  other  motive 
will  not  be  without  its  weight  in  your  mind.  I 
have  some  grounds  for  believing  that  a  work 
of  this  kind  is  in  contemplation  by  persons  from 
whose  hands  it  ought,  if  possible,  to  be  rescued 
by  anticipation,  as  it  will,  I  know,  be  a  main 
object  with  them  to  use  the  facts  in  order  to 
undermine  the  divine  character  of  the  Gospel 
history,  and  the  superhuman  powers  of  its 
great  founder;  a  scheme  which  can  be  rendered 
plausible  only  by  misstatements,  exaggeration, 
and  the  confounding  of  testimonies — those  of 
fanatics  and  enthusiasts  with  the  sober  results 
of  guarded  experiment,  given  in  by  men  of 
science  and  authority.'21 

21  Some  Unpublished  Letters  of  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge, 
Lippincott's  Magazine  13.710  (June,  1874). 


92  LANE  COOPER 

When  they  are  put  together,  the  marginal 
note  and  this  letter  suggest  a  fairly  extensive 
list  of  volumes  with  which  Coleridge  might  be 
presumed  to  have  had  some  acquaintance. 
Doubtless  he  had  access  to  other  important  works 
which  he  does  not  happen  to  cite.  He  must, 
of  course,  have  dipped  into  Mesmer;  a  copy  of 
Mesmerismus,  Berlin,  1814,  annotated  by  the 
poet,  was  among  the  books  that  came  into  the 
possession  of  Lord  Coleridge.22  He  could  scarce- 
ly have  missed  the  passage  on  the  evil  eye  in 
Bacon's  essay  Of  Envy,  or  the  passage  on  fas- 
cination in  The  Advancement  of  Learning.23 
He  may  in  all  likelihood  have  read  more  than 
one  of  the  Latin  treatises  on  fascination  of 
the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  such 
as  that  by  Christian  Frommann.24  There  is, 
however,  at  least  in  the  marginal  note,  an 
element  of  grandiloquence  which  will  lead  the 
knowing  to  suspect  that  in  regard  to  this,  as  to 
other  domains  of  research,  Coleridge  gives  the 
impression  that  he  has  mastered  more  of  the 
pertinent  literature  than  has  actually  been  the 

22  Haney,  Bibliography  of  Coleridge,  p.  121,  No.  206.  See 
also  p.  112,  No.  108;  p.  124,  No.  229. 

23  Book  2.  Works  of  Bacon,  ed.  Speckling,  Ellis,  and 
Eeath,  6.256-7. 

'-'  Tractatus  de  Fascinatione  Novus  el  Singularis,  in  quo 
Fascinatio  vulgaris  profligalur,  naturalis  confirmatur,  & 
magit  ■  examinatur,  etc.,  Norimberga:,  1675.  Among  'the 
Latinists  of  the  sixteenth  century'  Coleridge  would  doubt- 
less first  of  all  include  Paracelsus. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  93 

case.  Under  any  circumstances,  it  would  not 
at  present  be  advisable  to  attempt  a  more  de- 
tailed account  of  his  investigations,  especially 
if  they  left  him  in  the  position  where  he  began. 

For  an  understanding  of  his  poetry,  it  seems 
advantageous  to  turn  from  his  own  later  stud- 
ies, however  extended,  to  the  general  interest 
in  mesmerism  evinced  by  the  contemporaries 
of  Coleridge  during  the  formative  period  of  his 
boyhood  and  youth.  This  interest  was  lively 
on  the  Continent,  because  of  the  vogue  of  Mes- 
mer  and  his  immediate  disciples  (his  paper  on 
the  discovery  of  magnetism  having  been  pub- 
lished in  1779),  and  because  of  the  stir  aroused 
by  the  commissions  appointed  in  France  to 
inquire  into  the  validity  of  his  pretensions;25 
and  it  was  lively  in  England  shortly  after,  for 
example  at  London  and  Bristol,  through  the 
vogue  of  mesmerists  like  the  celebrated  Dr. 
John  Bell  and  Dr.  J.  B.  de  Mainauduc.26  This 
latter  personage  left  an  extraordinary  reputa- 
tion at  Bristol,  so  that  Coleridge  should  ulti- 
mately have  heard  about  him  there;  though  it 
seems  probable  that  he  must  have  known  some- 
thing of  the  great  magnetizer  while  a  schoolboy 
at  Christ's  Hospital  in  London. 

The  methods  by  which  the  different  magnet- 

26  In  1784. 

26  See  the  History  of  Animal  Magnetism;  its  Origin,  Prog- 
ress, and  Present  State;  as  Delivered  by  the  late  Dr.  De  Main- 
auduc, etc.    By  G.  Winter.    Bristol,  1801. 


94  LANE  COOPER 

izers  attracted  a  following,  did  not,  in  all  likeli- 
hood, vary  to  any  great  extent  in  their  essentials, 
and  must  often  have  resembled  the  procedure 
of  Mesmer  himself  in  detail.  He  'carried  a  long 
iron  wand,  with  which  he  touched  the  bodies  of 
the  patients;  .  .  often,  laying  aside  the 
wand,  he  magnetized  them  with  his  eyes,  fixing 
his  gaze  on  theirs.'27  In  fact,  he  seems  to  have 
made  use  of  the  principle  described  by  Binet 
and  Fere1  as  '  hypnotization  by  sensorial  excite- 
ment,' that  is,  (1)  'by  excitement  of  the  sense 
of  sight' — not  (a)  'strong  and  sudden  excite- 
ment, by  luminous  rays,  by  solar  or  electric 
light' — but  (b)  'slight  and  prolonged  excite- 
ment, by  fixing  the  eyes  on  an  object,  brilliant 
or  otherwise,  which  is  placed  near  the  eyes,  and 
somewhat  above  their  level.'28  The  eye  of  the 
magnetizer,  would,  if  unusually  brilliant,  con- 
stitute a  suitable  object  for  the  patient's  gaze; 
hence,  as  Mackay  notes,  with  the  mesmerists 
and  animal  magnetizers  in  general,  fixing  with 
the  eye  was  an  established  element  in  the  prac- 
tice :  'First,  request  [the  patient]  to  resign  him- 
self; to  think  of  nothing;  not  to  perplex  himself 
by  examining  the  effects  which  may  be  produced. 
.  .  .  After  having  collected  yourself,  take  his 
thumbs  between  your  fingers  in  such  a  way  that 
the  internal  part  of  your  thumbs  may  be  in 

27  Binet  and  F6r6,  Animal  Magnetism,  p.  10. 

28  Animal   Magnetism,    p.    93.     Compare    Albert    Moll, 
Hypnotism  (1890),  pp.  28  ff.;  p.  72. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  95 

contact  with  the  internal  part  of  his,  and  then 
fix  your  eyes  upon  him!'29 

Some  conception  of  the  stir  created  by  the 
magnetizers  in  London  while  Coleridge  was 
at  school  there,  and  at  Bristol,  which  he  sub- 
sequently visited,  may  be  gathered  from  the 
following  extracts,  the  first  being  supplied  by 
Mackay : 

'So  much  curiosity  was  excited  by  the  sub- 
ject, that,  about  [1788]  a  man  named  Hollo- 
way  gave  a  course  of  lectures  on  animal  magnet- 
ism in  London,  at  the  rate  of  five  guineas  for 
each  pupil,  and  realized  a  considerable  fortune. 
Loutherbourg  the  painter  and  his  wife  followed 
the  same  profitable  trade;  and  such  was  the 
infatuation  of  the  people  to  be  witnesses  of 
their  strange  manipulations,  that  at  times 
upwards  of  three  thousand  persons  crowded 
around  their  house  at  Hammersmith,  unable 
to  gain  admission.  The  tickets  sold  at  prices 
varying  from  one  to  three  guineas.'30 

In  1786,  as  recorded  by  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot, 
many  well-known  people  were  experiencing 
the  magnetic  treatment,  among  them  the  wife  of 
Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan: 

1 1  am  going  with  [Mrs.  Crewe]  today  to  Dr. 
Bell,  one  of  the  magnetizing  quacks,  and  the 
first  whom  I  shall  have  seen.    Lady  Palmerston, 

29  Extraordinary  Popular  Delusions  1.  293;  Mackay  quotes 
from  the  instructions  of  the  magnetizer  Deleuze  (1813). 

30  Extraordinary  Popular  Delusions  1.  287-8. 


96  LANE  COOPER 

Mrs.  Crewe,  Mrs.  Sheridan,  and  Miss  Crewe 
have  been  twice  at  Mainaduc's.  They  were  all 
infidels  the  first  day,  except  Mrs.  Crewe,  who 
seemed  staggered  a  little  by  the  number  and 
variety  of  the  people  she  saw  affected  by  the 
crisis.  The  next  time,  Mrs.  Sheridan  and  Mrs. 
Crewe  were  both  magnetized,  and  both  had 
what  is  called  a  crisis — that  is,  they  both  fell 
into  a  sort  of  trance,  or  waking  sleep,  in  which 
they  could  hear  what  passed,  but  had  no  power 
of  speaking  or  moving,  and  they  described  it 
as  very  like  the  effects  of  laudanum. 

'All  the  fine  people  have  been  magnetized, 
and  are  learning  to  magnetize  others.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  had  a  crisis — that  is  to  say,  be- 
came sick  and  faint.'31 

The  next  quotation,  from  Mackay,  bears 
witness  to  the  further  renown  of  De  Mainauduc 
at  Bristol: 

'In  the  year  1788  Dr.  Mainauduc,  who  had 
been  a  pupil,  first  of  Mesmer  and  afterwards 
of  [Deslon],  arrived  in  Bristol,  and  gave  public 
lectures  upon  magnetism.  His  success  was  quite 
extraordinary.  People  of  rank  and  fortune 
hastened  from  London  to  Bristol  to  be  magnet- 
ized, or  to  place  themselves  under  his  tuition. 
Dr.  George  Winter,  in  his  History  of  Animal 
Magnetism,  gives  the  following  list  of  them: 
"They  amounted  to  one  hundred  and  twenty- 

31  Life  and  Letters  of  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot,  First  Earl  of  Minto, 
1.111-113. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  97 

seven,  among  whom  there  were  one  duke,  one 
duchess,  one  marchioness,  two  countesses,  one 
earl,  one  baron,  three  baronesses,  one  bishop, 
five  right  honorable  gentlemen  and  ladies,  two 
baronets,  seven  members  of  parliament,  one 
clergyman,  two  physicians,  seven  surgeons, 
besides  ninety-two  gentlemen  and  ladies  of 
respectability."  He  afterwards  established  him- 
self in  London,  where  he  performed  with  equal 
success.'32 

Coleridge  was  at  school  in  London  from  1782 
until  1791;  it  seems  impossible  that  he  should 
have  escaped  all  knowledge  of  what  was  in  the 
air,  especially  as  it  was  about  1788  when  'his 
brother  Luke  came  to  walk  the  London  Hospi- 
tal, and  Coleridge  then  thought  of  nothing  but 
how  he  too  might  become  a  doctor.  He  read  all 
the  medical  and  surgical  books  he  could 
procure.'33 

The  extracts  that  have  just  been  given  will 
suffice  to  indicate  the  amount  of  attention  which 
was  popularly  bestowed  upon  'facts  of  mind' 
during  the  youth  of  Coleridge  and  Wordsworth, 
and  will  help  to  explain  the  number  of  allusions 
to  hypnotic  fascination,  hypnotic  trances  and 
suggestion,  and  the  emergence  from  psycho- 
logical '  crises',  to  be  found  in  the  poems  designed 
by  Wordsworth,  and,  more  especially,  by  Cole- 
ridge, for  the  Lyrical  Ballads  of  1798.  The  Lyrical 

32  Extraordinary  Popular  Delusions  1.287. 

33  Campbell,  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  p.  12. 


98  LANE  COOPER 

Ballads  were  not  merely  an  experiment  in  adapt- 
ing a  selection  from  the  language  of  humble  and 
rustic  life  to  the  expression  of  the  chief  human 
emotions;  to  a  large  extent  they  represented 
studies  in  the  psychology  of  the  abnormal, 
in  which  Wordsworth  treated  such  diverse 
types  as  The  Idiot  Boy,  the  Forsaken  Indian 
Woman,  and  Peter  Bell — cases  in  actual  life, 
or  such  as  might  have  occurred  in  actual  life, 
though  he  was  to  invest  them  with  the  light  of 
the  poetical  imagination.  Coleridge,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  was  to  deal  with  'supernatural ' 
events  as  if  they  were  real,  works  within  a 
much  narrower  range  of  subject-matter.  To 
tell  the  truth,  so  far  as  his  salient  ideas  are  con- 
cerned he  hardly  goes  beyond  the  province  of 
animal  magnetism;  and  the  notion  of  'fixing', 
and  then  of  a  sudden  release,  keeps  getting  the 
mastery  over  him  after  the  fashion  of  a  hobby 
bestriding  its  rider.  Add  to  this  conception  of 
'fixing'  the  readily  associated  idea  of  a  good  or 
an  evil  will  in  the  magnetizer,  which  may  natur- 
ally extend  to  blessing  or  cursing  the  person  who 
is  'fixed',  and  we  have  the  dominant  notions  in 
The  Three  Graves,  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient 
Mariner,  Christabel,  and  much  of  the  contem- 
porary Osorio.  There  is,  of  course,  a  certain 
amount  of  Miltonic,  Spenserian,  and  mediaeval 
demonology  interwoven  or  adumbrated,  and 
therefore  a  further  variation  according  as  one 
decides  the  question  mooted  by  'the  Latinists' 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  99 

of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  that 
is,  whether  'fascination'  is  ever  accomplished 
without  demoniac  assistance.  Let  the  reader 
who  can  at  every  point  in  the  story  say  whether 
the  lady  Geraldine  is  a  witch,  or  '  an  angel  beau- 
tiful and  bright'  and  yet  'a  fiend',  or  a  mere 
unsubstantial  phantasm  in  the  mind  of  Christa- 
bel,  decide  how  Coleridge  might  have  wished 
to  settle  this  question.  Presumably,  in  his 
effort  to  render  the  'supernatural'  more  'real', 
he  failed  to  distinguish  accurately  for  himself 
just  when  he  believed,  and  when  he  did  not  be- 
lieve, in  dubious  or  impossible  phenomena ;  that 
is,  he  tried  to  steer  a  middle  course  between 
'subjectivity'  and  'objectivity'.  Indeed,  Cole- 
ridge's wavering  on  this  point — his  '  philosoph- 
ical doubt,'  even  thus  early,  whether  to  present 
the  strange  occurrences  of  The  Rime  of  the  An- 
cient Mariner  as  frankly  supernatural,  or  as  in 
some  measure  capable  of  a  rational  explanation, 
on  the  ground  that  they  existed  only  as  mental 
hallucinations  on  the  part  of  the  main  charac- 
ter, who  saw  them  in  a  hypnotic  trance,  or  as  the 
vagaries  of  'A  Poet's  Reverie',  that  is,  the  im- 
palpable substance  of  trances  seen  within  a 
trance,  a  dream  of  a  dream — involves  his  poem 
in  an  unfortunate  want  of  self-consistency. 

When  we  examine  particular  instances,  how- 
ever, the  characteristics  of  the  ever  recurring 
magnetic  trance  in  Coleridge  betray  a  remark- 
able resemblance.     One  person,  or  personified 


100  LANE  COOPER 

object,  'fixes'  another;  the  'fixed'  person  or 
object  thereupon  remains  so  for  a  sharply  de- 
fined period: 

Seven  days,  seven  nights,  I  saw  that  curse, 
And  yet  I  could  not  die.34 

Then,  without  warning,  the  spell  is  'snapt', 
and  the  hitherto  motionless  subject  of  the  spell 
may  be  thrown  into  violent  activity.  Or, 
if  the  fascinated  person  or  object  has  been  set 
in  motion  by  the  fascinator,  the  motion  is  sud- 
denly retarded  or  wholly  arrested  when  the 
trance  of  itself  comes  to  an  end,  or  when  some 
other  kind  of  magnet  gains  the  ascendency: 

Till  noon  we  quietly  sailed  on, 
Yet  never  a  breeze  did  breathe: 
Slowly  and  smoothly  went  the  ship, 
Moved    onward    from    beneath. 

Under  the  keel  nine  fathom  deep, 
From  the  land  of  mist  and  snow, 
The  spirit  slid:  and  it  was  he 
That  made  the  ship  to  go. 
The  sails  at  noon  left  off  their  tune, 
And  the  ship  stood  still  also. 

The  Sun,  right  up  above  the  mast, 
Had  fixed  her  to  the  ocean: 
But  in  a  minute  she  'gan  stir, 
With  a  short  uneasy  motion — 
Backwards  and  forwards  half  her  length 
With  a  short  uneasy  motion. 

Then  like  a  pawing  horse  let  go, 
She  made  a  sudden  bound.36 

»4  A.  M.  261-2.  Compare  Dante,  Inferno  34.25-27.  This 
may  suggest  other  references  in  Dante,  e.  g.,  Puryatorio 
32.7-9,  67-72. 

"A.M.  372-390. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  101 

In  Coleridge,  for  example  in  The  Rime  of  the 
Ancient  Mariner,  one  may  almost  say  that  any 
being  or  thing  can  'fix'  any  other,  so  long  as  he 
or  it  may  be  supposed  to  have  or  be  a  face  or  an 
eye.  Thus  the  Mariner  fixes  the  Wedding- 
Guest,  and  holds  him  so  to  the  end  of  the  story; 
the  Sun,  which  is  at  one  time  a  face  and  per- 
haps at  another  an  eye,  in  a  certain  position, 
namely  the  equatorial  zenith,  fixes  the  ship, 
which  is  also  personified;  the  Moon  is  a  face — 
or  is  she  a  benevolent  eye? — so  influential  that 
the  'great  bright  eye'  of  the  Ocean  is  caught 
and  swayed  by  her;  in  the  Hermit's  description 
the  wolf  seems  to  be  'pointing'  the  owl;  and  the 
Pilot's  boy  is  fixed  by  the  Mariner.  Further- 
more, in  this  same  ballad  there  is  an  immense 
amount  of  apparently  casual  looking  and  watch- 
ing and  eyeing,  or  of  refusing  and  being  unable  to 
look,  of  good  and  evil  looks,  of  glances  direct 
and  askance,  of  brilliant  and  alluring  light  and 
color,  of  glistening  and  glimmering,  attractive 
and  repulsive  objects,  all  of  which  becomes  sug- 
gestive when  connected  with  the  more  evident 
cases  of  fascination.  All  or  nearly  all  the  look- 
ing is  enforced,  or  is  done  in  order  to  avoid  the 
peril  of  fixation : 

My  head  was  turned  perforce  away, 
And  I  saw  a  boat  appear.36 

*«A.  M.  502-3. 


102  LANE  COOPER 

Probably  no  other  noun  is  so  frequently  em- 
ployed in  the  ballad  as  the  word  eye  (or  eyes) ; 
and  the  repetition  of  words  like  bright,  bright- 
eyed,  glitter,  glittering,  fixed,  still,  trance,  having 
been  mentioned  in  a  footnote,  requires  no  fur- 
ther discussion. 

In  order  to  make  the  preceding  remarks  on 
Coleridge  more  intelligible,  we  need  only  scruti- 
nize the  following  extracts  from  his  poetry. 
Here  and  there  a  line  or  two  of  explanation, 
or  a  footnote,  will  be  added,  when  either  may 
seem  to  be  desirable;  for  order  and  transition 
in  this  material  I  may  trust  to  a  somewhat 
mechanical  grouping — even  though  the  groups 
patently  overlap,  and  sometimes  include  mere 
verbal  resemblances  between  passages  where  the 
hypnotic  influence  is  not  alluded  to  and  those 
in  which  it  is. 

1.  The  bright  flashing  or  glittering  eye: 

(a)  It  is  an  ancient  Mariner, 
And  he  stoppeth  one  of  three. 

'By  thy  long  grey  beard  and  glittering  eye, 
Now  wherefore  stopp'st  thou  me?'  A.  M.  1-4. 

(b)  Bright-eyed  Mariner.  A.M.  20,  40. 

(c)  '  I  fear  thee  and  thy  glittering  eye,37 

And  thy  skinny  hand  so  brown.'         A.  M.  228-9. 

37  'And  constrained  by  that  glittering  eye,  Hypatia  knelt 
before  her'  [Miriam].     Kingsley,  Hypatia. 


\ 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  103 

(d)  The  Mariner,  whose  eye  is  bright, 
Whose  beard  with  age  is  hoar, 

Is  gone.  A.  M.  618-620. 

(e)  Again  the  wild-flower  wine  she  drank: 
Her  fair  large  eyes  'gan  glitter  bright. 

Christabel  220-1. 


(f )     And  both  blue  eyes  more  bright  than  clear, 
Each  about  to  have  a  tear. 


With  open  eyes  (ah  woe  is  me !) 
Asleep,  and  dreaming  fearfully. 

Christabel  290-3, 


(g)  I  see  thy  heart! 

There  is  a  frightful  glitter  in  thine  eye, 

Which  doth  betray  thee.  Osorio  5.149-151. 


(h)    Maria.  O  mark  his  eyel  he  hears  not  what  you 
say. 
Osorio  (pointing   at   vacancy).     Yes,    mark   his 
eyel    There's  fascination  in  it. 

Osorio  5.255-6. 

(i)     And  all  should  cry,  Beware!  Beware! 
His  flashing  eyes,  his  floating  hair! 
Weave  a  circle  round  him  thrice, 
And  close  your  eyes  with  holy  dread. 

Kubla  Khan  49-52. 

2.   The  dull  eye: 

(a)    There  passed  a  weary  time.    Each  throat 
Was  parched,  and  glazed  each  eye. 


104  LANE  COOPER 

A  weary  time !  a  weary  time ! 

How  glazed  each  weary  eye.  A.  M.  143-6. 

(b)    A  snake's  small  eye  blinks  dull  and  shy. 

Christabel  583. 

3.   The  wild  look  : 

(a)  'God  save  thee,  Ancient  Mariner! 
From  the  fiends,  that  plague  thee  thus — 
Why  look'st  thou  so?' — With  my  cross-bow 

I  shot  the  Albatross.  A.  M.  79-82. 

(b)  A  gust  of  wind  sterte  up  behind 

And  whistled  thro'  his  bones; 
Thro'  the  holes  of  his  eyes  and  the  hole  of  his 
mouth 
Half-whistles   and   half-groans. 

A.  M.,  1  ed.,  195-8. 

(c)  I  moved  my  lips — the  Pilot  shrieked 
And  fell  down  in  a  fit; 

The  holy  Hermit  raised  his  eyes, 
And  prayed  where  he  did  sit. 

I  took  the  oars:  the  Pilot's  boy, 

Who  now  doth  crazy  go, 

Laughed  loud  and  long,  and  all  the  while 

His  eyes  went  to  and  fro. 

'Ha!  Ha!'  quoth  he,  'full  plain  I  see, 

The  Devil  knows  how  to  row.'  A.  M.  560-9. 

(d)  Behold !  her  bosom  and  half  her  side — 
A  sight  to  dream  of,  not  to  tell! 
O  shield  her!  shield  sweet  Christabel! 

Yet  Geraldine  nor  speaks  nor  stirs; 
Ah!  what  a  stricken  look  was  hers! 

Christabel  252-6. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  105 

(e)  Alas!  what  ails  poor  Geraldine? 
Why  stares  she  with  unsettled  eye? 
Can  she  the  bodiless  dead  espy? 

Christabel  207-9. 

(f )  His  heart  was  cleft  with  pain  and  rage, 

His  cheeks  they  quivered,  his  eyes  were  wild. 

Christabel  640-1. 

(g)  Then  when  he  fix'd  his  obstinate  eye  on  you, 
And  you  pretended  to  look  strange  and  tremble. 
Why — why — what  ails  you  now? 

Osorio  (with  a  stupid  stare).     Me?  why?  what 
ails  me? 
A  pricking  of  the  blood — it  might  have  happen' d 
At  any  other  time.  Osorio  3.175-9. 

(h)  She  started  up — the  servant  maid 
Did  see  her  when  she  rose ; 
And  she  has  oft  declared  to  me 
The  blood  within  her  froze. 

Three  Graves  172-5. 

4.  The  evil  look : 

(a)  Ah !    well-a-day !  what  evil  looks 

Had  I  from  old  and  young !  A.M.  139-140. 

(b)  Beneath  the  lamp  the  lady  bowed, 
And  slowly  rolled  her  eyes  around. 

Christabel  245-6. 

(c  )  And  in  her  arms  the  maid  she  took, 
Ah  wel-a-day! 
And  with  low  voice  and  doleful  look 
These  words  did  say: 

'  In  the  touch  of  this  bosom  there  worketh  a  spell, 
Which  is  lord  of  thy  utterance,  Christabel.' 

Christabel  263  8. 


106  LANE  COOPER 

(d)  .     .     .     .     Geraldine  in  maiden  wise 
Casting  down  her  large  bright  eyes, 

And  folded  her  arms  across  her  chest, 
And  couched  her  head  upon  her  breast, 
And  looked  askance  at  Christabel — 
Jesu,  Maria,  shield  her  well! 

Christabel  573-1, 579-582. 

(e)  And  sometimes  starting  up  at  once 

In  green  and  sunny  glade, — 

There  came  and  looked  him  in  the  face 
An  angel  beautiful  and  bright ; 
And  that  he  knew  it  was  a  Fiend, 
This  miserable  Knight!  Love  47-52. 

5.  The  eye  and  the  curse;  e.g.,  the  moth- 
er's, brother's,  widow's,  or  orphan's  curse,  and 
the  dead  man's  curse: 

(a)  Beneath  the  foulest  mother's  curse 

No  child  could  ever  thrive: 
A  mother  is  a  mother  still, 
The  holiest  thing  alive. 

Three  Graves  255-9. 

(b)  To  him  no  word  the  mother  said, 

But  on  her  knee  she  fell, 
And  fetched  her  breath  while  thrice  your  hand 
Might  toll  the  passing-bell. 

'  Thou  daughter  now  above  my  head, 

Whom  in  my  womb  I  bore, 
May  every  drop  of  thy  heart's  blood 

Be  curst  for  ever  more.' 

Three  Graves  134-141. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  107 

(c)  What  if  his  spirit 
Re-enter'd  its  cold  corse,  and  came  upon  thee, 

What  if,  his  steadfast  eye  still  beaming  pity 
And  brother's  love,  he  turn'd  his  head  aside, 
Lest  he  should  look  at  thee,  and  with  one  look 
Hurl  thee  beyond  all  power  of  penitence?  38 

Osorio  3.  80-1,  83-6. 

(d)  Alhadra.     ...     I  shall  curse  thee  then! 
Wert  thou  in  heaven,  my  curse  would  pluck  thee 

thence.  Osorio  5.  287-8. 

(e)  Not  all  the  blessings  of  an  host  of  angels 
Can  blow  away  a  desolate  widow's  curse; 

And  tho'  thou  spill  thy  heart's  blood  for  atone- 
ment, 
It  will  not  weigh  against  an  orphan's  tear. 

Osorio  5.  203-6. 

(f)  'The  curse  liveth  for  him  in  the  eye  of  the  dead 

men.' 

The  cold  sweat  melted  from  their  limbs, 
Nor  rot  nor  reek  did  they: 
The  look  with  which  they  looked  on  me 
Had  never  passed  away. 

An  orphan's  curse  would  drag  to  hell 

A  spirit  from  on  high; 

But  oh!  more  horrible  than  that 

7s  a  curse  in  a  dead  man's  eye! 

Seven  days,  seven  nights,  I  saw  that  curse, 

And  yet  I  could  not  die.  A.M.  257-262 


38  See  also  Osorio  1.    10-13,  20-21,  40-41,  80-81  (cf.  P.  W., 
p.  458,  No.  52),  144,  185;  2.  22-3,  84,  99-100,  106-7,  etc. 


\ 


108  LANE  COOPER 

(g)    All  stood  together  on  the  deck, 
For  a  charnel-dungeon  fitter: 
All  fixed  on  me  their  stony  eyes, 
That  in  the  moon  did  glitter. 

The  pang,  the  curse,  with  which  they  died, 
Had  never  passed  away: 
I  could  not  draw  my  eyes  from  theirs, 
Nor  turn  them  up  to  pray. 

And  now  this  spell  was  snapt:  once  more 

I  viewed  the  ocean  green, 

And  looked  far  forth,  yet  little  saw 

Of  what  had  else  been  seen. 

A.  M.  434-445. 

— This  is  because  what  is  behind  him  has  the  same  effect 
as  the  eye  of  a  fiend  upon  the  sinner  whom  he  is  pur- 
suing. 


6.  Enforced  looking,  refusal  to  look,  and  the 
effort  to  look  away : 


(a)    He  holds  him  with  his  skinny  hand, 
'There  was  a  ship,'  quoth  he. 
'Hold  off!  unhand  me,  grey-beard  loon!' 
Eftsoons  his  hand  dropt  he.39 

A.  M.    9-12. 


39  Eftsoons  his  hand  dropt  he:  Though  this  may  mean  that 
the  Wedding-Guest  at  first  takes  hold  of  the  Mariner's  hand 
in  order  to  free  himself,  and  then  desists  as  the  spell  begins 
to  work,  it  may  otherwise  mean  that  the  Mariner  drops  his 
hand,  since  he  now  can  hold  the  Wedding-Guest  by  the 
power  of  the  glittering  eye. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  109 

(b)    Listen,  O  listen,  thou  Wedding-guest ! 
'Marinere!  thou  hast  thy  will: 
'For  that,  which  comes  out  of  thine  eye,  doth 
make 
'My  body  and  soul  to  be  still.'40 

A.M.,  led.,  362-5. 

(c)  Lines  45-50 of  A.  M.  represent  a  pursuit  where  we 
are  to  imagine  the  pursuer  with  his  eyes  fastened  upon  the 
back  of  the  head  of  him  who  is  being  pursued.  The  pursued 
does  not  look  around. 

(d)  And  in  A.  M.,  lines  149-152,  the  Mariner's  eye  is 
fixed  upon  a  distant  object,  which,  as  it  approaches,  as- 
sumes the  form  of  a  ship. 

(e)  All  stood  together  on  the  deck, 

For  a  charnel-dungeon  fitter: 
All  fix'd  on  me  their  stony  eyes 
That  in  the  moon  did  glitter. 

The  pang,  the  curse,  with  which  they  died, 

Had  never  pass'd  away: 
I  could  not  draw  my  een  from  theirs 

Ne  turn  them  up  to  pray. 

40  The  Wedding-Guest  clearly  refers  to  a  magnetic  emana- 
tion from  the  body  of  the  Mariner.  Mackay  says:  'The 
assertions  made  in  the  celebrated  treatise  of  Deleuze  are 
thus  summed  up:  "There  is  a  fluid  continually  escaping 
from  the  human  body,"  and  "forming  an  atmosphere 
around  us,"  which,  as  "it  has  no  determined  current," 
produces  no  sensible  effects  on  surrounding  individuals. 
It  is,  however,  "capable  of  being  directed  by  the  will;"  and, 
when  so  directed,  "is  sent  forth  in  currents,"  with  a  force 
corresponding  to  the  energy  we  possess.  Its  motion  is 
"similar  to  that  of  the  rays  from  burning  bodies."  .  .  . 
The  will  of  the  magnetizer  .  .  .  can  fill  a  tree  with  this 
fluid.  .  .  .  Some  persons,  when  sufficiently  charged 
with  this  fluid,  fall  into  a  state  of  somnambulism,  or  mag- 
netic ecstasy;  and  when  in  this  state,  "they  see  the  fluid 
encircling  the  magnetizer  like  a  halo  of  light."  '  Extraor- 
dinary Popular  Delusions  1.291. 


110  LANE  COOPER 

And  in  its  time  the  spell  was  snapt, 
And  I  could  move  my  een.    A.  M.,  1  ed.,  439-448. 

(f)   I  looked  upon  the  rotting  sea, 
And  drew  my  eyes  away; 
I  looked  upon  the  rotting  deck, 
And  there  the  dead  men  lay. 

I  looked  to  heaven,  and  tried  to  pray. 

I  closed  my  lids,  and  kept  them  close, 

And  the  balls  like  pulses  beat; 

For  the  sky  and  the  sea,  and  the  sea  and  the  sky 

Lay  like  a  load  on  my  weary  eye, 

And  the  dead  were  at  my  feet. 

A.  M.  240-244,  248-252. 

(g)    Beneath  the  lightning  and  the  Moon 
The  dead  men  gave  a  groan. 

They  groaned,  they  stirred,  they  all  uprose, 
Nor  spake,  nor  moved  their  eyes. 

A.  M.  329-332. 

The  body  of  my  brother's  son 
Stood  by  me,  knee  to  knee; 
The  body  and  I  pulled  at  one  rope 
But  he  said  nought  to  me. 

A.  M.  341-344. 

(h)    The  Marineres  all  'gan  pull  the  ropes, 
But  look  at  me  they  n'old: 
Thought  I,  '1  am  as  thin  as  air — 
They  cannot  me  behold.'     A.  M.,  1  ed.,  374-7. 

(i)    I  turn'd  my  head  in  fear  and  dread, 
And  by  the  holy  rood, 
The  bodies  had  advanc'd,  and  now 
Before  the  mast  they  stood. 

They  lifted  up  their  stiff  right  arms, 
They  held  them  straight  and  tight; 

And  each  right-arm  burnt  like  a  torch, 
A  torch  that's  borne  upright. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  111 

Their  stony  eye-balls  glitter 'd  on 
In  the  red  and  smoky  light. 

I  pray'd   and  turn'd  my  head  away 
Forth  looking  as  before.  A.  M.,  1  ed.,  489-500. 

(j)   But  soon  I  heard  the  dash  of  oars, 
I  heard  the  Pilot's  cheer; 
My  head  was  turned  perforce  away, 
And  I  saw  a  boat  appear.  A.  M.  500-503. 

(k)    The  boat  came  closer  to  the  ship, 

But  I  nor  spake  nor  stirred.  A.  M.  542-3. 

(1)   I  pass,  like  night,  from  land  to  land; 
I  have  strange  power  of  speech; 
That  moment  that  his  face  I  see, 
I  know  the  man  that  must  hear  me : 
To  him  my  tale  I  teach.  A.  M.  586-590. 

7.  The  bright  and  flashing  object: 

(a)  I  cannot  chuse  but  fix  my  sight 

On  that  small  vapor,  thin  and  white  1 

Variant  lines  in  Lewti,  P.  W.,  p.  568. 

(b)  The  brands  were  flat,  the  brands  were  dying, 
Amid  their  own  white  ashes  lying; 

But  when  the  lady  passed,  there  came 
A  tongue  of  light,  a  fit  of  flame, 

And  Christabel  saw  the  lady's  eye, 
And  nothing  else  saw  she  thereby, 
Save  the  boss  of  the  shield  of  Sir  Leoline  tall.*1 

Christabel   156-162. 


41  That  is,  besides  the  eye-like  boss  of  the  shield,  Christa- 
bel sees  what  we  often  observe  in  the  lower  animals,  cats, 
for  example,  but  more  rarely  in  human  beings,  when  a  beam 
of  light  is  properly  reflected  from  the  retina  of  the  animal  or 
person  into  the  eye  of  the  observer.  Compare  the  use 
made  by  Poe  of  this  phenomenon  in  The  Tell-tale  Heart. 


112  LANE  COOPER 

(c)  The  smooth  thin  lids 
Close  o'er  her  eyes;  and  tears  she  sheds- 
Large  tears  that  leave  the  lashes  bright! 
And  oft  the  while  she  seems  to  smile 

As  infants  at  a  sudden  light ! 

Yea,  she  doth  smile,  and  she  doth  weep. 

Christabel  314-319. 

(d)  A  little  distance  from  the  prow 
Those   crimson   shadows  were: 

I  turned  my  eyes  upon  the  deck — 
Oh,  Christ!  what  saw  I  there! 

Each  corse  lay  flat,  lifeless  and  flat, 
And,  by  the  holy  rood! 
A  man  all  light,  a  seraph-man, 
On  every  corse  there  stood. 

This  seraph-band,  each  waved  his  hand: 

It  was  a  heavenly  sight ! 

They  stood  as  signals  to  the  land, 

Each  one  a  lovely  light.42  A.  M.  488-495. 

(e)  With  the  images  in  Coleridge's  description  of 
the  flaming  seraph-band  compare  the  fascination  produced 
by  the  'fire-flags'  (aurora  borealis)  in  A.  M.  313-7;  the  parti- 
colored water  in  A.  M.  269-271;  and  the  glistening  'water- 
snakes'  m  A.M.  272-281. 

8.  The  Sun  personified,  and  represented  as 
having  a  face  or  an  eye  with  the  power  of  fas- 
cination : 


«  Compare  Milton,  Paradise  Lost  6.  579-881 : 

At  each  behind 
A  Seraph  stood,  and  in  his  hand  a  Reed 
Stood  waving  tipt  with  fire. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  113 

(a)    The  sun  came  up  upon  the  left, 
Out  of  the  sea  came  he! 
And  he  shone  bright,  and  on  the  right 
Went  down  into  the  sea.  A.  M.  25-28. 


(b)    The  Sun  now  rose  upon  the  right: 
Out  of  the  sea  came  he, 
Still  hid  in  mist,  and  on  the  left 
Went  down  into  the  sea.  A.  M.  83-86. 


(c)    Nor  dim  nor  red,  like  God's  own  head, 

The  glorious  sun  uprist.  A.  M.  97-98. 


(d)    The  women  sat  down  by  his  side, 
And  talked  as  'twere  by  stealth. 


'The  Sun  peeps  through  the  close  thick  leaves, 

See,  dearest  Ellen!  see! 
'Tis  in  the  leaves,  a  little  sun, 

No  bigger  than  your  ee; 


'A  tiny  sun,  and  it  has  got 

A  perfect  glory  too; 
Ten  thousand  threads  and  hairs  of  light, 
Make  up  a  glory  gay  and  bright 

Round  that  small  orb,  so  blue.' 

Three  Graves  503-513. 


(e)    The  western  wave  was  all  a-flame. 
The  day  was  well  nigh  done! 
Almost  upon  the  western  wave 
Rested  the  broad  bright  Sun; 
When  that  strange  shape  drove  suddenly 
Betwixt  us  and  the  Sun. 


114  1  A  NE  COOPER 

And  straight  the  Sun  was  flecked  with  bars, 

(Heaven's  Mother  send  ns  grace!) 

As  if  through  a  dungeon-grate  be  peered 

With  broad  and  burning  face.       .1.  .1/.  171-1S0. 

(f)  The  thought  is  repeated  in  lines  186-6,  the  gloss 
to  which  reads:  'And  its  [the  spectre-ship's]  ribs  are  seen  as 
bars  on  the  face  of  the  setting  sun.' 

(g)  'The  ship  hath  suddenly  been  becalmed.' 

And  we  did  speak  only  to  break 

The  silence  of  the  sea  ! 

All  in  a  hot  and  copper  sk>  , 

The  bloody  Sun.  at  noon. 

Right  up  above  the  mast  did  stand, 

No  bigger  than  the  Moon.'13 

Pay  after  day,  day  after  day, 

We  stuck,  nor  breath  nor  motion; 

ka  idle  as  a  painted  ship 

Upon  a  painted  ocean.  .1.   M.   109-119. 

(h)    The  sails  at  noon  left  off  their  tune, 
And  the  ship  stood  still  also. 

The  Sun,  right  up  above  the  mast, 
Had  fixed  her  to  the  ocean  :u 
But  in  a  minute  she  'gan  stir, 
With  a  short  uneasy  motion- 
Backwards  and  forwards  half  her  length 
With  a  short  uneasy  motion. 

45  And  at  mid-day  from  the  mast 
No  shadow  on  the  deck  is  cast. 

Bowles,  Camocns  40-41. 
44  For  the  sun  as  an  eye,  compare: 

Xo  longer  .     may  I  behold  yon  day-star's 

sacred  eye.  Sophocles,  Antigone  8S0-1. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  115 

Then  like  a  pawing  horse  let  go, 

She  made  a  sudden  bound.  .4..  If.  3S1-300. 

9.  The  fascination  of  the   Moon,   which  is 
personified,  and  represented  as  a  face  or  eye : 

(a)  Mother  of  wildly-working  visions!  hail! 

I  watch  thy  gliding,  while  with  watery  light 
Thy  weak  eye  glimmers  through  a  fleecy  veil. 
Sonnet  to  the  Autumnal  Moon  2-5. 

(b)  'At  the  rising  of  the  Moon,' 

We  listened  and  looked  sideways  up!      A.  M.  202. 

—namely,  at  the  star-dogged  Moou.     Whereupon, 

One  after  one,  by  the  star-dogged  Moon, 

Too  quick  for  groan  or  sigh, 

Each  turned  his  face  with  a  ghastly  pang, 

And  cursed  me  with  his  eye.  A.  M.  211-214. 

(c)    '  In  his  loneliness  and  fixedness,  he  yearneth  to- 
wards the  journeying  Moon.' 

The  moving  Moon  went  up  the  sky, 

And  no  where  did  abide.  A.  M,    263-4 

/.  e.,  after  a  seven  day's  gazing  at  the  eyes  of  the  dead 
men,  he  fixes  his  eye  on  the  Moon,  which  is,  like  the  Sun,  a 
face  or  an  eye.  Then  he  turns  his  face  to  the  ocean,  and 
watches  the  water-snakes  as  they  glisten.  He  blesses 
them,  the  spell  is  'snapt',  and  he  is  able  to  pray. 

(d)    'Still  as  a  slave  before  his  lord, 
The  ocean  hath  no  blast; 
His  great  bright  eye  most  silently 
Up  to  the  Moon  is  cast — 


116  LANE  COOPER 

If  he  may  know  which  way  to  go; 

For  she  guides  him  smooth  or  grim. 

See,  brother   see!  how  graciously 

She  looketh  down  on  him'.45  A.  M.  414-421. 

(e)       Osorio  {with great  majesty).     O  woman! 
I  have  stood  silent  like  a  slave  before  thee. 

Osorio  5.  302-3. 

(f )  The  moonlight  steeped  in  silentness 

The  steady  weathercock.  A.  M.  478-479 

(g)  Silent  icicles, 
Quietly  shining  to  the  quiet  Moon. 

Frost  at  Midnight  73-74. 

(h)  On  moonlight  bushes, 

Whose  dewy  leaflets  are  but  half-disclosed, 
You  may  perchance  behold  them  on  the  twigs, 
Their  bright,  bright  eyes,  their  eyes  both  bright 

and  full, 
Glistening,  while  many  a  glow-worm  in  the  shade 
Lights  up  her  love-torch.      The  Nightingale  64-9. 


46  For  lo  the  Sea  that  fleets  about  the  Land, 
And  like  a  girdle  clips  her  solide  waist, 
Musike  and  measure  both  doth  understand; 
For  his  great  chrystall  eye  is  alwayes  cast 
Up  to  the  Moone,  and  on  her  fixed  fast; 
And  as  she  daunceth  in  her  pallid  spheere, 
So  daunceth  he  about  his  Center  heere. 

Sir  John  Davies,  Orchestra,  stanza  49. 
The  parallel  to  Coleridge  was  noted  by  Mrs.  Humphry 
Ward,  in  Ward's  English  Poets,  1880,  1.550. 
See  also: 

In  the  broad  open  eye  of  the  solitary  sky. 

Wordsworth,  Stray  Pleasures  16. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  117 

(i)    And  he  beheld  the  moon,  and,  hushed  at  once, 
Suspends  his  sobs,  and  laughs  most  silently, 
While  his  fair  eyes,  that  swam  with  undropped 

tears, 
Did  glitter  in  the  yellow  moon-beam!    Well! — 
It  is  a  father's  tale.46        The  Nightingale  102-106. 

10.  Fascination  of  animals: 

(a)  'When  the  ivy-tod  is  heavy  with  snow, 
And  the  owlet  whoops  to  the  wolf  below, 
That  eats  the  she-wolf's  young.'       A.  M.  535-7. 

(b)  And  what  can  ail  the  mastiff  bitch? 
Never  till  now  she  uttered  yell 
Beneath  the  eye  of  Christabel.47 

Christabel  149-151. 

(c)  When  lo!  I  saw  a  bright  green  snake 
Close  by  the  dove's  its  head  it  crouched; 


\ 


This  dream  it  would  not  pass  away — 
It  seems  to  live  upon  my  eye! 

Christabel  549,  552,  558-9. 

(d)    A  snake's  small  eye  blinks  dull  and  shy, 

And  the  lady's  eyes  they  shrunk  in  her  head, 

Each  shrunk  up  to  a  serpent's  eye, 

And  with  somewhat  of  malice,  and  more  of  dread, 

At  Christabel  she  look'd  askance  I — 

One  moment — and  the  sight  was  fled! 


46  Cf.  P.  W.,  p.  456,  No.  37. 

47  A  searching  study  of  Coleridge's  use  of  the  super- 
natural in  Christabel  is  to  be  found  in  Mr.  Ernest  Hartley 
Coleridge's  edition  of  the  poem  (London,  1907).  See  also 
the  comprehensive  treatise,  in  two  volumes,  on  the  evil 
eye,  by  Dr.  S.  Seligman:    Der  Bose  Blick,  Berlin,  1910. 


118  LANE  COOPER 

But  Christabel  in  dizzy  trance 
Stumbling  on  the  unsteady  ground 
Shuddered  aloud,  with  a  hissing  sound; 
And  Geraldine  again  turned  round, 
And  like  a  thing,  that  sought  relief, 
Full  of  wonder  and  full  of  grief, 
She  rolled  her  large  bright  eyes  divine 
Wildly  on  Sir  Leoline. 

The  maid,  alas!  her  thoughts  are  gone, 

She  nothing  sees, — no  sight  but  one\ 

The  maid,  devoid  of  guile  and  sin, 

I  know  not  how,  in  fearful  wise, 

So  deeply  had  she  drunken  in 

That  look,  those  shrunken  serpent  eyes, 

That  all  her  features  were  resigned 

To  this  sole  image  in  her  mind: 

And  passively  did  imitate 

That  look  of  dull  and  treacherous  hatel 

And  when  the  trance  was  o'er,  the  maid 
Paused  awhile,  and  inly  prayed. 

Christabel  583-606,  613-614. 

It  may  throw  a  further  light  on  Coleridge's 
conception  of  the  power  of  the  eye,  if  we  briefly 
examine  Wordsworth's  use  of  a  similar  concep- 
tion in  Peter  Bell,  especially  if  we  remember  that 
this  poem  was  written  as  a  sort  of  counter  to 
The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner.  Wordsworth 
employs  the  idea  of  ocular  fascination,  but  in 
such  a  way  that  we  can  see  its  explanation  on 
wholly  rational  grounds.  Peter  fancies  that  he 
is  under  the  control  of  supernatural  influences, 
but  the  reader  knows  that  Peter  is  fascinated, 
not  from  without,  not  by  spirits  or  emanations 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  119 

from  persons  or  things  external,  but  from  within 
by  his  own  fears,  that  is,  by  the  'spirits  of  the 
mind',  reacting  upon  the  outer  environment. 
Wordsworth  makes  use  of  a  sort  of  'facts  of 
mind',  the  existence  of  which  has  never  been 
disputed.  Furthermore,  with  Wordsworth,  ocu- 
lar fascination  is  only  one  device  out  of  many 
whereby  the  hero's  conversion  is  effected.  There 
are  a  dozen  other  means  to  his  salvation,  with 
which,  however,  we  have  no  present  concern. 
To  be  compared,  then,  with  the  passages  from 
Coleridge  are  the  following  passages  from  Peter 
Bell. 

First,  the  one  in  which  the  'shining  hazel 
eye'  of  the  Ass  is  turned  toward  Peter,  and 
again  turned  away  from  him  to  the  object 
in  the  water.  Next,  the  one  in  which  Peter's 
eye  becomes  fixed  upon  the  object  in  the  water, 
the  fixation  being  accompanied  by  a  host  of 
images  of  the  most  diverse  kinds,  that  flash  and 
throng  through  Peter's  brain.  Next,  the  one 
in  which 

The  mosques  and  spires  change  countenance, 
And  look  at  Peter  Bell ! 48 

Nor  may  we  forget  the  good  soul  whose  eye  is 
fascinated  by  the  ghostly  apparition  of  a  word 
(unnamed)  formed  by  the  wick  of  the  taper 
falling  on  the  page  of  his  book.  This  account,  of 
course,  has  a  more  or  less  humorous  intention, 

"  P.  B.  689-690. 


120  LANE  COOPER 

as  has  also  the  description  of  the  Ass  turning 
his  head  to  grin  at  Peter,  while  Peter  eyes  the 
Ass  and  grins  back.  Two  representative  pas- 
sages from  the  ballad  may  be  quoted : 

He  looks,  be  cannot  choose  but  look; 
Like  some  one  reading  in  a  book — 
A  book  that  is  enchanted. 

Ah,   well-a-day  for  Peter  Bell! 
He  will  be  turned  to  iron  soon, 
Meet  Statue  for  the  court  of  Fear.49 

And  now  the  Spirits  of  the  Mind 
Are  busy  with  poor  Peter  Bell; 
Upon  the  rights  of  visual  sense 
Usurping,  with  a  prevalence 
More  terrible  than  magic  spell. 


The  sweat  pours  down  from  Peter's  face, 
So  grievous  is  his  heart's  contrition; 
With  agony  his  eye-balls  ache 
While  he  beholds  by  the  furze-brake 
This  miserable  vision  ! 50 

That  the  normal  emotions  of  the  human  spirit 
may  endure  sufferings  more  terrible  than  those 
produced  by  'magic  spell'  is  Wordsworth's  tacit 
criticism  upon  some  of  the  devices  employed  by 
Coleridge.  A  more  prolonged  comparison  than 
can   here  be  made  between   The  Rime  of  the 

"  P.  B.  518-523. 

50  P.  B.  916  920.  931-5. 


THE  EYE  IN  COLERIDGE  121 

Ancient  Mariner  and  Peter  Bell  would  bring  out 
further  interesting  differences  in  the  treatment 
of  detail  by  the  two  poets.  It  is  enough  to  say 
that  in  the  happy  fitting  of  details  into  a  gen- 
eral plan,  and  the  transition  from  one  incident 
to  the  next,  the  superiority  lies  altogether  on 
the  side  of  Wordsworth.  For  one  thing,  since 
he  is  more  fertile  he  is  not  compelled  to  make 
the  same  notion  do  duty,  under  various  dis- 
guises, for  the  machinery  throughout  an  en- 
tire ballad.  If  he  does  repeat  himself,  the 
repetition  is  not  of  a  questionable  and,  after 
all,  unimportant  phenomenon,  such  as  that  of 
ocular  hypnosis.  As  for  Coleridge,  one  can 
scarcely  maintain  that  the  passages  here  col- 
lected tend  to  ennoble  one  another  in  such  a 
fashion  as  to  increase  our  respect  for  this  author. 
It  is  disappointing  to  find  his  'poet's  eye'  con- 
tinually 'fixed'  by  so  trivial  a  'fact  of  mind'. 


\ 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  OF  BEDE'S 
ECCLESIASTICAL  HISTORY. 

BY   EDWARD    G.    COX,    PH.D. 

The  following  text  is  taken  from  Laud1  610, 
fol.  89b  1,  a  vellum  manuscript  in  the  Bodleian 
Library,  and  is  printed  entire  for  the  first  time2 
in  Anecdota,  vol.  iii,  1910.  Other  works  testi- 
fying to  the  interest  the  mediaeval  Irish  felt  in 
the  "breomra  bocera"  are  the  "Carlsruhe 
Bede,"3  glosses  on  De  Rerum  Natura  and  onDe 
Temporum  Ratione;  the  "Vienna  Fragment,"4 

1  Described  by  Todd  in  Proc.  Roy.  Ir.  Acad.,  ii,  336-345; 
by  O'Donovan,  Book  of  Rights;  by  Zimmer,  Gott.  gel.  Am., 
1887,  190-193;  and  by  A.  D'Arbois  de  Jubainville  in  Cata- 
logue de  la  Liiierature  Epique  de  VIrlande.  It  contains  a 
large  collection  of  miscellaneous  pieces,  written  by  differ- 
ent hands,  ranging  in  date  from  perhaps  the  12th  century 
to  the  15th.  Among  its  most  important  contents  are  a  ver- 
sion of  the  Calendar  of  Oengus,  an  imperfect  copy  of  Cormac's 
Glossary,  and  fragments  of  Accallam  na  Senorach. 

2  Kuno  Meyer  has  called  attention  to  this  text  in  Zeit. 
f.  cell.  Phil,  ii,  321.  Anecdota  from  Irish  MSS.,  ed.  by  O. 
J.  Bergin,  R.  I.  Best,  Kuno  Meyer,  J.  G.  O'Keefe,  Dublin. 

3  Edited  by  Zimmer  in  Glosses  Hibernicce,  1881,  and  by 
Stokes  in  Old  Irish  Glosses  at  Wurzburg  and  Carlsruhe,  1887. 
Zimmer  dates  its  authorship  at  about  the  year  850. 

4  A  re-reading  of  these  Glosses,  first  publ.  by  Stokes  in 
'laidelica,  1872,  and  by  Zimmer  in  Glossae  Hibernicce  and 
)ii.~  supplement  thereto,  has  been  made  by  Strachan  in  Rev. 
Celt.,  xxiii,  40  ff.  Both  Bedes  are  included  in  the  Thesaurus 
Palceohibemicus,  1901-1903. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  123 

glosses  on  part  of  the  treatise  De  Temporum 
Ratione;  the  Betha  Fursa,5  Life  of  Fursa,  the 
abbot  of  Lagny,  whose  life  set  forth  by  Bede  in 
Bk.  iii,  ch.  xix,  of  the  Historia  Ecclesiastica,  is 
translated  very  closely  by  some  unknown  Irish 
writer.  Furthermore  Bede's  name  is  mentioned 
in  "A  Fragment  of  the  Old  Irish  Psalter,"6  and 
his  division  of  the  ages  of  the  world  is  followed 
by  the  author  of  the  Leabhor  Gabala,7 — "The 
Book  of  Invasions." 

The  present  work  is  a  very  free,  curtailed 
translation  of  the  first  two  books  of  the  Ecclesi- 
astical History.  It  is  a  good  specimen  neither 
of  Irish  translation  nor  of  Irish  composition. 
Its  author  was  careless  and  inaccurate,  and 
toward  the  end  had  apparently  lost  interest  in 
what  he  was  doing.  He  frequently  misread  the 
original,  confused  the  facts  and  dates,  and  set 
forth  the  whole  in  a  style  that  is  loose,  awkward, 
and  compressed  to  the  point  of  obscurity.  The 
incident  of  Gregory's  first  meeting  with  the  Old 
English  slaves  in  the  market-place  the  author 
gives  in  full;  but  he  omits,  in  his  account  of 
Edwin's  conversion,  the  beautiful  allegory  of 
the  flight  of  the  sparrow  through  the  lighted 
hall  from  darkness  into  darkness.  In  his  carry- 
ing over  of  proper  names,  the  author  is  very 

6  Edit,  and  trans,  by  Stokes,  from  a  Brussels  MS.,  in  Rev. 
Celt.,  xxv,  385  ff. 

6  Edit.,  etc.,  by  Kuno  Meyer  in  Hibernica  Minorca,  1894. 

7  See  Rev.  Celt.,  xxix,  250. 


121  EDWARD  G.  COX 

inconsistent:  at  times  he  transfers  them  bodily, 
preserving  a  pseudo-Latin  inflection;  at  other 
times  he  uses  the  Irish  equivalents. 

Nevertheless  the  translation  is  deserving  of 
attention,  not  for  its  method  and  manner,  but 
for  the  fact  that  it  may  have  been  made  not 
much  more  that  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  after 
Bede's  death,  and  for  its  contribution  to  our 
knowledge  of  Old  and  Middle  Irish  forms,  at 
the  stage  when  the  transition  from  the  Old  to 
the  Middle  period  was  going  on. 

Kuno  Meyer  would  place  the  date  of  its  com- 
position as  early  as  the  ninth  century,  practic- 
ally in  the  Old  Irish  period.  While  many  ar- 
chaic features  are  observable,  yet  the  Middle 
Irish  characteristics  prevail  so  largely  that  I 
am  inclined  to  doubt  by  a  century  so  high  an 
antiquity.  In  other  words,  I  should  assign  its 
composition  to  near  the  beginning  of  the  tenth 
century.  In  this  century  the  old  verbal  system 
was  beginning  to  break  up,  and  to  this  unsettled 
condition  our  text  is  no  stranger.  The  fact  that 
the  deponents  are  fairly  numerous,  although 
some,  especially  the  denominatives  in  -igim, 
have  gone  over  into  the  active  conjugation, 
leads  me  to  prefer  the  beginning  of  the  century 
to  the  middle. 

I  shall  set  down  in  some  detail  some  of  the 
evidence  that  points  to  a  very  early  period  of 
Middle  Irish,  following  it  up  with  a  partial  list 
of   distinctly   Middle   Irish   features,   together 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  125 

with  a  glance  in  passing,  as  it  were,  at  the  verbal 
system. 

1.  Here  belongs  the  statement  made  above  of  the  depo- 
nents. 

2.  With  one  exception,  the  particle  ro-  is  still  infixed  in 
compound  verbs. 

3.  The  distinction  between  prototonic  and  enclitic  forms 
of  the  verb  is  fully  observed,  with  the  exception  of  such 
forms  as  rue,  tuc,  tdnic,  rdnic,  etc.,  which,  even  in  Old 
Irish,  had  pushed  aside  the  prototonic  forms. 

4.  No  prototonic  forms  follow  the  negative  ni. 

5.  The  distinction  between  passive  preterites  and  active 
preterites,  marked  in  Middle  Irish  by  the  absence  of  aspir- 
ation of  the  initial  consonant  of  the  verb  in  the  former 
case,  and  by  its  presence  in  the  latter,  is  not  observed  here. 

6.  Eclipsis  is  seldom  indicated;  aspiration  is  very 
sporadic. 

7.  The  article  still  clings  to  some  of  the  Old  Irish  forms, 
e.  g.,  inna,  gen.  sg.  fern.;  a,  ace.  sg.  neut.  In  the  main, 
however,  the  forms  are  confused. 

8.  The  neuter  has  not  wholly  been  absorbed  into  the 
masculine  inflection. 

9.  The  accusative  plural  endings  of  o-stems  in  -u  are 
fairly  well  preserved. 

10.  The  prepositions  la  and  iar  govern  respectively  the 
accusative  and  the  dative,  and  dochum  is  found  once  with 
transported  n. 

11.  After  a  preposition,  datives  in  the  plural  have  not 
yet  gone  over  into  the  accusative. 

12.  The  accusative  sometimes  precedes  its  governing 
verb,  and  not  infrequently  the  subject  does  also,  unless  the 
copula  is  supposed  to  have  been  brought  forward  the  sub- 
ject. Note  such  cases  as  Sabinct  ba  flaith,  §26;  Eduni  in 
ri  rochuinnig-side  ingin,  §29;  Tri  cinela  Saxan  tdncatar 
assin  Germain,  §19. 

Similarly  I  append  some  distinctly  Middle 
Irish  characteristics: 


126  EDWARD  G.  COX 

1.  Specific  relative  forms  of  the  verb  are  not  used. 

2.  After  ro-  h  is  often  inserted  to  prevent  hiatus. 

3.  After  amal,  "as  though,"  the  negative  used  is  na  in 
place  of  nl. 

4.  There  are  no  instances  of  the  relative  -n— . 

5.  The  declension  of  i-stems  is  unsettled,  and  in  o-  and 
io-  stems  u-infection  is  wanting. 

6.  Transported  n  after  accusative  and  after  nominative 
neuters  is  wanting. 

7.  Neither  the  reflexive  nor  the  emphasizing  pronouns 
are  used  in  strict  accord  with  case,  number,  and  person. 

8.  The  following  words  are  peculiar  to  Middle  Irish: 
cethri,  §13,  for  cethir;  cuic,  §3,  for  c6ic;  dochuas,  §14,  for 
docoas;  cloidem,  §18,  for  claideb;  donafib,  §22,  and  iarsna- 
fib,  §23,  for  donaibhi  and  iarsnaibhi;  ona,  §30,  isna,  §1, 
dona,  §19,  for  onaib,  isnaib,  donaib;  na,  §26,  for  ina;  bam, 
§24,  1st  sg.  fut.  of  subst.  verb;  corbam,  §29,  1st  sg.  subj.  of 
subst.  verb;  bud,  §24,  3rd  sg.  second,  subj.  of  copula. 

9.  There  are  no  instances  of  the  use  of  the  affixed 
pronoun. 

Some  of  the  more  common  orthographical 
peculiarities  are: 

-a  for  -ce:  techta,  §22;  arsata,  §1;  bliadna,  §8;  menma, 

§29;  cara,  §29. 
ai  for  oi :  daine,  §18;  taisechu,  §18. 
-a  for  -e:  d6na,  §30;  eclastacda,  §36. 
ffi  for  ai:  inrsetar,  §18;  gse,  §18,  araele,  §11. 
ai  for  ae:  laichaib,  §24;  cumachtai,  §23. 
ai  fori:  laichaib,  §24;  athair,  §9;  cathair,  §26. 
i  for  e:  cinela,  §19;  br^thri,  §20;  buidi,  §24;  tuaithi, 

§4. 
d  for  th  final:  tuaid,    §29;  inrud,  §15;  dognid,  §29. 
dh  for  d  final:  cheilebradh,  §34;  cladh,  §14;  c6icedh, 

§27. 
dh  for  d  internal:  suidhi,  §29;  comardha,  §33. 
gh  for  g  final:  cathraigh,  §23;  chlaraigh,  §33;  clerigh, 

§23. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  127 

th  for  d  internal:  cennathaig,    §2;  irnaigthib,    §23. 
nd  for  later  nn:  and,   §20;  roindis,   §29;  cend,   §19; 
afriund,  §22. 

The  more   important  details   of  the  verbal 
system  are  as  follows: 

Infixed  pronouns :  dia-no-m-soera,   §30,   1st  sg. ;  no-t-uas- 

laicfind,   §30,  2nd  sg. ;  ra-foglaim,   §2,  3rd  sg.  masc; 

con-id-romarb,  §8,  3rd  sg.  masc;  nach-a-ragbad,  §23, 

3rd  sg.  masc. ;  do-s-f uc,  §22,  3rd  sg.  fern. ;  ro-n-fdided, 

§22,  1st  pi.;  ni-s-leicset,  §15,  3rd  pi.;  ro-s-tuc,  §2,  3rd 

pi. ;  ro-s-digbatar,  §14,  3rd  pi. 
Prototonic   forms:  fox-dcaib,    §28;   dochuaid,     §19;    dorat, 

§23;  dorochair,  §33;  dorigne,  §23. 
Enclitic:  farcaib,   §4;  co  n-dechaid,   §29;  ni  tharsat,   §15; 

i  torchair,  §23;  nl  chumaic,  §23. 
Perfects :  t&nac,  §29,  1st  sg. ;  co  r-ranic,  §5,  3rd  sg. ;  atchon- 

dairc,  §30,  3rd  sg. 
T-pret. :  atbath,  §29,  3rd  sg. ;  atbert,  §23,  3rd  sg. ;  atracht, 

§33,  3rd  sg. ;   con<§rrachtatar,  §19,  3rd   pi.;   doruacht, 

§14,  3rd  sg. 
S-pret. :  The  majority  of  these  preterites  are  perfective 

preterites:  roattrebsat,  §23,  3rd  pi. ;  rocathaigset,  §14, 

3rd  pi.;  rochosecair,  §23,  3rd  sg. ;  rodluthus,  §29,  1st 

sg. ;  dor6nsat,   §14,  3rd  pi. ;  roforcan,   §1,  3rd  sg. ;  ni 

16ic,  §31,  3rd  sg. ;  rofaid,  §33,  3rd  sg. 
Reduplicated  pret. :  dochuaid,  §19;  dochoid,  §19,  3rd  sg. ; 

fiiair,  §1,  3rd  sg.;  adchuala,  §29,  3rd  sg. ;  otcualatar, 

§14,  3rd  pi. 
Unredup.  pret.:  dorochair,  §33,  3rd  pi.;  lotar,  §14,  3rd  pi. 
Ro-less  pret. :  con-acca,  §24,  3rd  sg. 
F-fut.:  diiiltaib,    §29,    1st   sg. :   atchluinfe,    §30,    2nd   sg.; 

mairfed,  §29,  3rd  sg. ;  ricfaidthi,  §22,  2nd  pi.;  canfaid, 

§24,  3rd  pi. 
Redup.-fut.:  atbera,   §23,  3rd  sg.;  fogebthaidh,   §22,  2nd 

pi. 
S-fut. :  tsethaisti,  §24,  2nd  pi. 
Secondary  f-fut.:  6entaigfitis,  §24,  3rd  pi.;  ordaigfed,  §23, 

3rd  sg. 


128  EDWARD  G.  COX 

A-subj.:  dernai,  §30,  3rd  sg.;  marba,  §29,  3rd  sg. ;  conorrag- 
ba,  §23,  3rd  sg. 

S-subj.:  coemos,  §29,  1st.  sg.;  coemsat,  §29,  3rd  pi. 

Secondary  a-subj.:  16ictis,  §19,  3rd  pi.;  nosaiged,  §18,  3rd 
sg.;  rochomStad,  §22,  3rd  sg.;  ro-h-ordned,  §23,  3rd 
sg. ;  rothorromad,  §29,  3rd  sg. 

Sec.  s-subj.:  tistais,  §14,  3rd  pi. 

Deponents:  rofaidestar,  §19,  3rd  sg.  s-pret.;  rofaidhestar, 
§34,  the  same;  forodomair,  §9,  3rd  sg.  s-pret.:  roprit- 
chastar,  §22,  3rd  sg.  s-pret.;  ro-h-assair,  §17,  3rd  sg. 
pret.  in  -ai;  tucsamar,  §22,  1st  pi.  perf. ;  fesamar,  §22, 
1st  pi.  s-subj.;  rochreitsetar,  §19,  3rd  pi.  s-pret. 

Passive:  ro-h-ordned,  §26,  3rd  sg.  s-pret.;  [f]rith,  §18,  3rd 
sg.  redup.  pret.;  robaded,  §36,  3rd  sg.  s-pret.;  rofail- 
siged,  §29,  3rd  sg.  s-pret.  (formerly  deponent)  ;  rofecht, 
§32,  3rd  sg.  t-pret.;  romarbta,  §25,  3rd  pi.  s-pret.; 
dochuas,  §14,  3rd  sg.  red.  pret;  dobdrthar,  §22,  3rd  sg. 
red.  fut. 

Imperfect:  rognithe,  §1,  3rd  sg. ;  noimtheiged,  §33,  3rd  sg. 

The  above  scheme,  together  with  the  Notes, 
which  deal  with  additional  linguistic  features, 
does  not  pretend  to  be  exhaustive.  In  the  text 
itself  I  have  indulged  in  a  few  minor  changes, 
such  as  using  the  hyphen  with  transported  n-, 
with  the  h  inserted  to  prevent  hiatus,  and  with 
the  infixed  pronouns,  joining  the  particle  ro-  to 
the  verb  following,  and  making  the  accent  con- 
stant. The  translation,  which  is  fairly  literal, 
is  intended  to  aid  prospective  students  of  Old 
and  Middle  Irish.  The  Glossarial  Index  merely 
calls  attention  to  rare  words  or  to  forms  of  in- 
terest. 

I  take  pleasure  in  expressing  my  obligation 
to  Dr.  O.  J.  Bergin,  Professor  of  Old  and  Middle 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  129 

Irish  in  the  National  University  of  Ireland, 
Dublin,  for  the  explanation  of  many  obscure 
passages. 

Text 

1.  Augtar  inna  h-ealathan  sa  Beid  h-uasal- 
sacart1  ecnaid  fer  ratha  De  i  n-ecna  7  i  crabud. 
Fiiair2  Beid  dano  forthachtaigthid  .i.  Alpin  in 
t-ab3  ro-h-airmitnech,  in  fer  ro-h-orcthe  trisna 
h-uile  disciplu4  ina  fer  n-eolach  Teodir  epsco[ip] 
7  Adrian  inn  abbad,  ar  rofogluind  Alpin  6  des- 
cippluibh  Griguir  nahi  rognithe5  h-i  cenmithaig 
Cantuariorum  7  isna  ferannaibh  comacraibhibh 
7  ana6  f  uair  6  sencassaibh  na  littre  no  6  tidnacul 
na  sen6rach  7  rotharmhinuid  Albin7  co  Beid 
innahi  ro-h-asneid  do  Nothelmus  h-iiasal-sacart 
na  h-ecailsi  lundunensis  rodbo  6  littrib  no  6 
h-imaccalmaibh.a  Is  e  Nothelmus  tucastar 
epistil  6  Griguir  nach8  6  R6im  co  Saxano.  Isiat 
roforcan  Albin  comtis  echlanta  don  sairse  Beid 
n6ibh.9  O  thossach  immorro  na  staire  co  creitem 
na  Saxan  6  scribendaib  na  n-arsata  adiu  's  anall 
rofoglaind  Beid  7  rothin61.  Daniel  immorro 
episcopus  Saxan  funetta  rof  aides  tar  cuca  6  h- 
epistlib  stair  a  ceniuil  fadein  7  na  Saxain  des- 
certach  7  Inse  Uechta3. 

2.  Iris  immorro  intinscanta1  Mercio[ru]m 
Saxorumb  rafoglaim2  corraba-side  tresna  da  h- 
uasal-sacart  Ceddi  7  Cedda  7  co  ro-h-athnuiged 

a  Leg.:  h-imaccalmaibh. 
b  Leg.:  Saxonum 


130  EDWARD  G.  COX 

treotha  iris  na  Saxan  airtherach  .i.  Lestingseu. 
Nahf  rognitheh-icennathaigna  Saxan  airtherach 
arranic  rainn  de  6  thidnaicthib  na  n-asartha, 
raind  aile  6  atharcud  inn  abadh  h-Essi.  Nahi 
immorro  rognith  i  1-leith  rac  h-iris  Crist  h-i 
cennathaig  Lindis  ro-h-oglaind  6  guth  bm  in 
t-uasal-sacart  Cimbericht.  Tidnacle  immorro 
Nordanimbrorum  .i.  sencassa  Saxan  tuascer- 
tach,  sochaide3  6  fuair-seom  y  ro-s-tuc  fern. 

3.  Britania1  insola  occiani  cui  quondam  Al- 
bion no[me]n  erat  ocht  cet  mile  chemend  ina 
fot  .cc.  ina  lethet  inna  h-imtimcell  immorro  .i. 
cuic  mile  sechtmogat  fo  h-ocht  [cet]  cethrachat.2 
Oct  cathracha  flchet  inti  y  cuic  berlai3  .i.  Sax- 
anbe>la  y  b£rla  Brethnas  y  berla  Cruithnech  y 
Goedelg  y  Laten. 

4.  Anno  .xl°.  natiuitatem  Chris ti  .i.  ceth- 
racha  bliac^an  ria  n-gein  Crist  tanic  Gaius  Ilius 
i  nn-Inis  Bretan,  co  fargaib  a  longa  y  a  sluag 
in  cet  fecht,  y  co  farcaib  Labienus1  tribunus. 
Ruc-som  fo  deoid  giullu  Inse  Brefcan. 

5.  Cluid  Cessar  in  cethramad  ri  iar  n-Iuil1 
tanicc  a  n-Inis  Bretan  co  r-ranicc  co  h-Insi  h-Orc 
ab  incarnacione  Domini  .clvi. 

6.  Marcus  Antonius  cona  brathair  .i.  Lucio 
Aurilio  Commodo  cretim  i  nn-In[is]  Bretan. 
Ab  incarnatione  Domini  .clxxx.  ix.  Seuerus 
Affer  Tripolitanus  tanic  i  n-Inis  Bretan,  Lep- 
tis  ainm  a  chathrach  sin  Affraic,  in  xuii.  ri  iar 

c  Leg. :  na. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  131 

n-Iuil.    Is  leis  dor6nad  clad  Saxan.    Atbath 
h-i  Cair  Abroic.1 

7.  Dd,  mac  occa  .i.  Bassianus  7  Geta.  Ba 
sein  rogabh  in  rige,1  ainm  d6  Antonm,  ab  in- 
carnatione  Domini  .cclxxxui. 

8.  Dioclisten  in  tres  rl  ar  .xxx.  iar  n-Iuil,  7 
Maximen  tame  i  nn-Inis  Bretan.  Isna  h-aim- 
sir  rogab  Carausius  rige  Bretan  .uii.  m-bliadno. 
conidromarb1  Alectus,  co  r-rogaib-side  rige  tri 
blieLdna  conidromarb  Asclipidotus  7  ba  ri-side 
re  .x.  bliadan. 

9.  Dicclisten  i  n-airthiur  in  domuin  ac  in- 
greim  na  Cristaide  7  Maximen  ina  h-iartur. 
h-Issind  ingreim-se  forodomair  Alpan  n6eb  7 
Aaron  7  Iuil  airchinnech  Cathrach  Legionum.1 
Isind  aimsir-se  atbath  Constans  ri  Bretan  athair 
Constantin  meic  Helinae  .i.  caratben  Constantin. 
Roscrib  Eutropius  conid  ann  rogab  Constantin 
a  rige  ar  tus  i  nn-Inis  Bretan. 

10.  D&ig  rogab  a  h-athair  flaithius  Franc  7 
Hespainech  i  m-bethaid  Dioclisten  ab  incarna- 
tione  .ccclxui. 

11.  Gratianus  cethrachad  ri  6  Iuil,  isna  h- 
aimsir-side  rogab  araele  Maxim  rige  Brettan 
ab  incarnatione  Domini  .cccxciiii. 

12.  Arcadius  i  r-rige  in  domuin  .i.  mac 
Theothois1  in  tres  ri  ar  .xl.  iar  n-Augwis*.  Pi- 
lagius  Brit  do  gabail  ersi2  7  do  thogail  na 
Cristaidi. 

13.  Ab  incarnatione  Domini  .cccc.  uii. 
Cethri  bliadna  .xl.1  resin  debliadain  togla  R6ma2 


132  EDWARD  G.  COX 

6  h-Elair  rig  na  n-Goth  rorigadh  Gratian  c6raid 
i  m-Brethnaz'6  7  romarbad  iartain.  Constantm 
iartainri  6  aiimain  in  ch6ro3  innaas  6  inracus 
conidromarb  Constantinus  Comes  tre  forcongru 
Honorii.    Tannic  Const ans  a  mac  a  manchaine 

7  rogabh  rige. 

14.  Robrissed  tra  R6im  iartain  millisimo  .c°. 
xl.°  uii.°  hli&dain  6  rocomtaiged.  Is  e  sin  crfch 
flaithusa  R6m£n  for  Inis  Bretan,  iar  .cccclxx. 
bliacfom  6  rogabh  Iiiil  Inis  Bretan  tra  ro-s-dfg- 
batar  Romanaigh  imma  miltnecht  7  nir  far- 
cabsat  6cbad  no  aes  engnad  inti  7  rucsat  Romd- 
naigh  7  ni-s-leicset  h-uadib  etir.  IS  aire  sin 
dor6nsat  G6edil  7  Cruithnig  na  da  chiniud 
chomfochraibe  sin  braitt  7  creich  dibh.  Do- 
chuas1  6  Bretnaib  co  n-epistlib  co  r-Romanchu 
ar  dd,ig  cobartha,  7  doruacht  miltnect  calma 
cucu  7  dorr6nad  clad  accu  dar  in  n-insi  ri  h-ucht 
Cmthnech  7  G6edel,  7  dochuatar  dia  taig  iar- 
tain. Fo  cetoir  tdncatar  na  n^mait  7  rothun- 
setar  Bretnu  amal  gort  abbaig.  Rofaitte2  na 
techtairi  dorisse  7  doruact  legion  do  chobair 
Bretan  7  rochathaigset  ri  n&imdibh  Brettan  7 
ro-h-athnuged  in  cladh  leo  dorrigned  la  Seuerus. 
Ba  do  clochaib  in  fecht  sain  .i.  uii.  traiged  ina 
lethe  7  .xii.  ina  h-arde,3  o  muir  co  m-muir  a  fott. 
Tuir  imda  fair  7  daingnigther  amal  na  tistais 
dorfs4  dia  cobair  7  lotar  as.  Otcualatar  G6idil 
7  Cruithnig  amal  ch6no  altafochdirib5 dochuatar 

Leg.:  engnama. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  133 

foithib  ab  incarnatione  Domini  .cccc.  xxui. 
Teothois  Iunior  post  Honorium  in  cethramad 
ri  .3d.  iar  n-Auguist. 

15.  Palladius  dochum  n-Erenn1  a  papa  Cel- 
istino.  h-I  .xxxiii.  in  Teothois  sin  rucad  epistil 
ina  m-briathar-sa  6  Bretnaib  dochum  in  consuil 
diarbo  ainm  C6etium2  .i.  'Nos  repellunt  barbari 
ad  mare,  [mare]  repellit  ad  barbaros.  Inter 
hsec  oriuntur  duo  genera  funerum,  id  est  aut 
iugulamur  aut  mergimur.'  Act  cena  ni  tarsat 
Romanaig  dia  n-aid,  deithbir  6n  iarsinn  aimsir 
sin  roboi  Bledla  7  Attila  da  rig  na  n-Umuneta3 
h-ic  inrud  Roman  co  romalartsatar  cid  Eoroip 
uili  7  co  tanicc  gorta  m6r  dia  n-eis. 

16.  Marb  immorro  sochaide  do  Bretnaib  do 
gortai  iarna  slait  ma  n-uile  biad  do  CruthmM  7 
do  G6edelaibh. 

17.  Tanic  immed  messa  7  toraid  iarsin  gor- 
tai sin.  Roassar  iartain  oc  Bretnaib  fledogugwd 
imda  isin  bli&dain  sin  ropo  nessu.  Ro-h-assair 
assaide1  sarthol  7  etrad  7  follach  De  7  ecailse. 
Tanic  iartain  plag  tedma2  7  comerge  trom  na 
namat  forro  .i.  na  namait  nua,  Saxain  a  n-ainm- 
side.  h-I  trf  longaib  tra  fotaib  tancatar  Saxain. 
Bretain  immorro  cona  rig  .i.  Uertigern3  rogab- 
sat  Saxano  na  sid  co  1  .  .  .  menmnach  amal  bid 
do  ditin  a  t  .  .  .  h.4 

18.  Rochom6entadaigset  immorro  Saxain  re 
Cruthentuaith  7  re  n-G6edelo  7  roinraetar  Inis 
Bretan  uili  7  doratsat  fo  gein  cloidem1  7  gae  a 
daine2  7  a  rlgu  7  a  taisechu,  a  treun  7  a  fainn, 


134  EDWARD  G.  COX 

a  sacairt  uasa  n-altore  7  nf  rith  nech  nosaiged 
foras  m6r  iartain  for  Saxano. 

19.  Tri  cinela  Saxan  tancatar  assin  Germain 
.i.  Saxain  7  Angli  7  Iuti.e  Da  chinel  Iutarumf 
Contuar  7  Uictuani  .i.  attrebthaig  Insi  Bechte, 
7  11a  Saxain  funedcha,  cine'Z  h-i  comair  dond  insi 
sin.  D&  chenel  na  Saxan  immorro  n-airtheraigg 
h-uile  7  namedonaig  7  na  Saxain  funeta.  D'Anglis 
immorro  mediterreni  .i.  luchtCafri  Ebr6c  7  Or- 
thon  imbri.  Dib-side  na  toisig  robatar  resind 
longis  .i.  Orsa  7  Egist1  da  mac  Uectgilsi  meic 
Guicthe  meic  Guecta  meic  Uicta  meic  Uechta 
meic  Uoden  meic  Frelub.  h-Eres  Phelaig  co 
mm6r  ind  inbaid  sin  ac  fuasnad  Insi  Bretan  co 
tanic  German  n6eb  cend  na  h-ecailsi  Altadoren- 
sis  7  Lupus  Tricasenus  a  Franccaib  co  rochobra- 
tar  inn  [in]is  trf  rath  7  mirbuilib27  dochuaid  Ger- 
man fein  h-i  tosach  in  chatha  la  Bretnu  7  ro- 
raidset  na  sl6ig  ic  dul  isin  cath  tre"  forchongru 
in  chleirig  Alleluia,  7  rotheithset  na  namait  fo 
chetoir.  Doratsat  Bretain  do  dermat  cech  olc 
fuaratar  7  each  digail,  con^rrachtatar  catha  7 
debtha  occo  fein,  7  nitharsath-onoirdonasruith- 
ib  robatar  occo  7  dochoid  dimmus  7  olc  intib 
co  r-rici  a  sacartu  7  a  clerchu,  7  ni  leictis  bretha 
na  firindi  do  faisnis  dona  Saxanaib  robatar  cid 
na  n-6entaid  fein,  acht  nocho  derig  Dla1  a 
thuaith  feissin  ch6ru  lim  rofuidestar5  in  Dia 

e  riti  MS. 

f  ritarum  MS. 

B  Leg.:  na  h-airtheraig. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  135 

sein  forcetlaide  ba  h-inraccu  rochreitsetar.    Ab 
incarnatione  Domini  d°.  lxxx0,  u°. 

20.  Auric1  in  cethramad  ri  ar  .1.  6  Auguist  i 
r-rige  in  domain.  Cuius  anno  [regni]  .x°.  Gregorius 
sedem  tenuit  apostolicam.  C6ica  hli&dan  ar 
cet  6  thichtain  Saxan  cosein  tanic  Augustin  co 
sochaidi  do  Chnstaidib  do  phroicept2  brethri 
De  do  Saxanaib.  0  doruachtatar  Insi  Tanatos 
dond  leith  anaer  do  Chantia  dochuatar  techta 
uadib  co  h-Edelbrect  .i.  ardri  Saxan  descirt.  Is 
and  rob6i  in  Cantia. 

21.  Rob6i  immorro  muinter1  Augustin  .xl. 
fer  7  robatar  etercertaide  a  fFranccaib  mar6en 
riu  do  muintir  episcopi  Arelatensis  .i.  Etherius 
7  rl. 

22.  Roraidset  na  techta  resin  rig :  '0  R6imh 
ro-n-faideg*1  7  tucsamar  degscel  lind  .i.  flaithus 
cen  h-airchra  donafib  chretit2  Isu  Crist  mac  De 
bi.'  Rorecair  in  ri:  'Doberthar  duib-si  inni 
ricfaidthi  a  les  co  fesamar-ne  ar  comairle  immon 
cretem.'  Tanic  clu  na  Cristaide  a  setig3  .i. 
Bercta,  do  cheniul  ri[g]  Franc,  ar  is  amlaid 
do-s-fuc4  6  thustidib  co  rochometad  smacht 
nemelnide  na  h-irse.  Epscop5  uasal  h-ic  afriund 
di  each  lai.  Ludardus  a  h-ainm-side.  Tanic 
in  ri  arnabarach  cona  maithib  do  immacalldaim 
re  Augustin  7  ropritchastar  Augustin  d6.  Ro- 
raidh  in  ri :  '  Isat  sochrai  chetus  bar  m-briathra, 
acht  noco  chumcaim-se  comchetfaid  d6ib,  acht 

h  Leg.:  ro-n-f&ided. 


136  EDWARD  G.  COX 

failti  chainhuarrech  fogebthaidh-se  co  roderbor- 
sa  bar  m-briathra,  7  pritchaid  do  chach,  ni 
tairmescaim-se  immuib.' 

23.  Tuc  in  ri  aitte  d6ib  isin  cathraig  Doruuen- 
sis.  Lotar1  isin  cathraig  croch  Crist  reompu  co 
n-deilb  Crist  inti.  Trebait  isin  cathraig  co 
h-ennacc  0  bes  ceth-ecailsi  na  n-apstal  o  h-irnaig- 
thib  gresachaib2  6  [fjrithairib  6  h-ainib  oc 
forcetal  chaich.  Rochreit  sochaide  in  dii  ssin. 
Fo  deoig1  rochreit  in  rl  fein.  Ro-h-airfited  o 
bethaid  glain  inna  chleirech.3.  Dorat  doib  cum- 
achtai  cumdaig3  eclass  inna  cathrach  archena. 
In  Dorouensi  i  n-eclais  n6eb-Martain  re  cath- 
raig amuig  roattrebsat  na  clerigh,  Bretain 
o  chein  ro-do-chumdaigset.4  Iarsnafib-se  tra 
dochoid  Axxgustin  co  h-Etherius  eppscop  Arela- 
tensis  amal  atbert  Grigoir  ris,  co  ro-h-ordned 
ann  corbo  h-uasal-epscop  do  chiniud  Anglorum. 
Iar  tuidecht  d6  dia  thig5  rofaid  Lurint  h-uasal- 
[s]acart  7  Petar  manach  do  R6im  do  aissneis  na 
Saxan  do  bith  crlstaidi,  7  is  h-e-sium  liasal- 
epscop,  7  araile  imchomarca  do  thaiscidib  na 
h-ecailsi,  7  ni  chumaic  in  chumri  conorragba  6. 
Rofaid  immorro  Grigoir  araile  le6  do  thennad 
na  creitmi  .i.  Millitus  7  Iustus,  Paulinus  7 
Ruffinianus,  7  dorat  palliu  na  1-laim  do  Augustin 
6n  ordaigfed  epscopu,  7  tucad  d6  da  epscop  .x. 
do    ordugud    i    n-inadaib    saindradhachaib    .i. 

1  Leg.:  deoid. 

^  Leg.:  cleirech. 

k  Leg.:  con-da-ra-gba. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  137 

epscop  i  1-Lundain  7  pallium  6  Grigoir  do  7 
epscop  h-i  cathraigh  Erbroic1  7  pallium  d6  0 
Gregorio  7  atbert  Grigoir  na  sacairt  Bretem  co 
brathardo  do  fomugud  d6,  7  atbert  Grigoir  cen 
templu  na  n-idal  do  scailiud  acht  a  coisecrad 
do  Dia  7  alt6ri  intib  7  tasse  na  n6em  7  rofaid 
Grigoir  do  Axigustin  ar  nach-a-ragbad  diumus7 
tria  imad  na  mirbuile  dorigne  Dia  per  eum  'ar 
is  ri  sochaide  dib  atbera  Dia  i  1-16  bratha  non 
noui  uos.'  Tuctha  epistli  uad  co  h-Edilbrict 
dia  buidechus  ar  gabail  na  h-irse  7  roahnestarm 
Axigustin  dona  h-6entadachaib.  Axigustin  tra 
dessid  h-i  sossud  uasal-epscoip  h-isin  cathraig 
.i.  Cantia,  7  rochosecair  in  n-eclais  6n  urd 
Romanach,  7  rochosecair  in  n-eclais  dorrigned  la 
h-Edelbricht  sel  6n  chathraig  i  nn-anmaim 
Pettair  7  Poil,  7  tucad  a  h-abdaine  do  Petar 
isinn  eclais  sin.  Cumsanait  taissi  Augustin  cona 
saigthigidib  7  taissi  rig  Cantia11  Petar  immorro 
in  t-abb  isind  ucht  mara  dianid  ainni  Anfleot 
7  rof  ailsig  Dia  a  chorp  7  ro-h-adnacht  isin  chath- 
raig .i.  Bononia.  Elfrid  immorro  isind  aimsir 
hi  r-rige  Nordanimbrorum  (.i.  6  Umbra  fo 
thiiaid)  dorat-side  cath  do  iEdan  do  rig  Scot 
.i.  cath  cruaid  i  n-Degsastan  (.i.  Lapis  Degsa) 
h-i  torchair  Teodball  brathair  Aedilfrid. 


1  Leg.:  Ebroic. 

m  Leg.:  roaithnestar. 

n  Add.  robaided  (?) 


138  EDWARD  G.  COX 

Finit  primus  liber. 

24.  Anno  doniinicse  incarnationis  .dc.  Gri- 
goir do  h-epiltin.  Roscrib  Beid  dia  bethaid  7 
dia  gnimradaib  7  dia  deithidin  im  Saxanaib. 
Laa  n-6en  dochoid  in  forum  uenalium  co  n-acca1 
da  macca[n]  ro-ch6ema  do  Saxanaib  and  co  n- 
gnuisib  corcra2  co  mongaib  buidi  co  cnessaib 
taitnemachaib.  'Can  d6ib  so?'  ol  Grigoir.  'A 
h-Inis  Bretan,'  ol  na  daine.  'Indatt  Cristaide 
no  indat  pagandai?'  ol  Grigoir.  'Pagandai,' 
olsiat.  'Truag,'  (.i.  co  n-osnaid),  arse,  'letheid 
ind  lochta  so  for  seilb  diabail.3  Cid  a  h-ainm  in 
cheniuil?'  ar  Grigoir.  'Angli,'  arsiat.  'Is 
maith,'  ol  Grigoir,  'gnuisi  angel  leo,  c6ir  a 
rochtain4  h-i  comchrandchor  angel.  Cid  ainm 
a  tuaithi?'  ol  Grigoir.  'Deri,'  olseat.  'Deri/ 
ol  Grigoir,  'de  ira  eruti.  Cid  ainm  ind  rig?' 
ol  Grigoir.  'iElde,'  olsiat.  'Alleluia  canfaid,' 
ol  Grigoir,  'do  molad  De.'  Dochuaid  Grigoir 
co  dian5  dochum  an  papa  7  atbert  fris  forcet- 
laidi  do  chor  do  procept  do  Saxanaib  '7  mad 
coir,'  arse,  'bam  erlam  re  dul  and.6"  Nirba 
comairle  lasin  senod.  Amal  rogab  immorro  a 
h-apdaine  rofaid  Axxgustin  ut  dixi.  Iarsein 
tra  rotriall  Augustin  na  h-irse  robatar  oc  Bret- 
naib  do  dichor  immon  caisc  7  a  n-6entugud  7 
Saxain  im  6eniris  7  oenchind.  Atbertatar 
immorro  Bretnaig  na  bud  cend  doib  Angustin7 
7  na  h-6cntaigfitis  h-ic  tendad  h-irsi  Saxan. 
Atbert   Augustin:  'Ar  nach   ail   duib-si  a  m- 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  139 

brathris,  doberat  cath  duib-si  7  tsethaisti  leo.' 
Rocomallad  anisin.  Rola  Edilfrid  a  n-ar  isind 
luce  dianid  ainm  Legacester  oc  Bret[naib]  .i. 
Caer  Legion  (.i.  Ciuitos  Legionum).  Tancatar 
cleirig  Bretan  h-uili  do  airnaigthe  ria  laichaib 
iar  cul  in  chatha   iar   n-aine°  tredinais  doib. 

25.  Otchondairc  Edilfrid  rofoip  cuccu;  mili 
7  da  diet  do  chleirchib  and  7  ni  terna  dib  acht 
.1.  .ccc.  septies1  do  manchaib  Bennchair  namma 
romarbta  and. 

26.  Anno  ab  incarnatione  Domini  .dc.  iiii. 
Millitum  do  h-ordned1  i  1-Lunnaind  .i.  cathair 
na  Saxan  airtherach.  Tames  eturru  7  Cantia. 
Sabinct  ba  flaith  i  1-Lundaind  fo  Edilbricht  7 
dorronad  oc  Edilbricht  eclas  do  Ph61  apstal  i 
1-Lundaind.  Iustus  immorro  ro-h-ordned  in 
Cantia  isin  chathra%  Dorobreus.  Is  inti  dorigni 
in  ri  eclais  do  Andrias.  Tri  mile  a  Doruuerui 
atbath  Augustin.2  Ro-h-ordned  Lurint  na  inad 
dia  eis.  Millitus  co  r-R6imh,  7  tuc  tascide  imda 
6  Bonifait  6n  phapa. 

27.  Anno  ab  incarnatione  Domini  dc.  xui. 
fichi1  immorro  6  thanic  Augustin  a  m-Bretnw 
atbath  Edilfricht  in  ri  .i.  in  tres  ri  rogab  6  Chan- 
tia  co  Humbra,  Celin  in  ri  tanaise,  Edilbricht 
in  tres  ri.  Redualt  in  cethramad.  Eduni  in 
cdicedh  .i.  ri  Rordanimbrorum,q  Osualt  in  seised, 
Ossio  a  brathair  in  sechtmad. 

0  ndaine  MS. 

p  Leg.:  rof6id. 

q  Leg.:  Nordanimbrorum. 


140  EDWARD  G.  COX 

28.  Edilfricht  tra  mac  Muric  meic  Octa  mac 
Oric,  diarbo  ainm  Oisc,  meic  Egist.  Edball 
mac  Edilbricht  na  h-inad  7  roleicc  creitim  ar  in 
paganacht,  7  romarb  Saperict1  ri  Lundaindi, 
foracaib-side  tri  maccu  gentlide.  Dochoid  Mil- 
litus  in  t-epscop  arteichedna  pagandai  coCantia 
co  Lurint. 

29.  Dochoid  Lurint  7  Iustus1  h-i  Frangcaib. 
Roimraid  Lurint  dul  na  degaid  co  rothairmescad 
imme  ind-aislingi  dia  rochotail  i  n-eclais  Petair 
.i.  rosraigled2  h-e  ar  thred  Crist  do  thregud  cen 
6eghaire.  0  thanic  maten  roindis  dond  rig. 
Ro-h-imeclaig  in  ri  in  comdid,  7  tucad  Mellitus 
7  Iustus  a  Francaib,  acht  niroleicset  chuculucht 
Lundaindi  Mellitus  ar  grad  gentliuchta.  Tar- 
rasair  Mellitus  in  Cantia  i  n-eclais  Petair.  At- 
bath  Lurint.  Rogab  Mellitus  epscopo^i.  Ius- 
tus i  n-eclais  Hirofenfe.  Atbath  Mellitus, 
Iustus  na  h-inad  i  n-ard-espoc6iti  do  reir  in 
papa  .i.  Bonifait.  Paulin3  ind  inbaid  sin  oc 
pracept  do  Saxanaib  tu&scirt.  Is  e  so  fochund 
a  chreitmi  .i.  Eduni  in  ri  rochuinnig-side  ingin 
Edilbricht  ri  Cantuariorum  do  mnai  d6  .i.  Celti- 
berga4  nd  Tata.  Roraid  a  brathair  Eadball 
na  tibred5  in  ingin  cristaidi  acht  do  Christaide. 
Atbert  Eduni  na  denial6  olc  ri  Cristaidib  acht 
roraid,  'Ni  dfultab-sa,'  ar  se,  'mo  bith  cristaide 
dia  coemos  corbam  inraice  de'.7  Tucad  d6  inn 
ingen  7  rofaided  Paulin  mar6en  ria.  Ranic- 
side  aidchi  chase  do  thig  ind  rig.  Isin  aidchi 
sin   tame  araile  for  techtairecht  diamlaigthe. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  141 

Issin  aidchi  sin  rothuisim  a  ben  ingin  d6  .i. 
Ernfled  7  robaisted  7  ro-h-edhpradh  do  Dfa  dia 
soerad  dond  6coir  doronai  7  do  soerad  a  mna. 
Is  i  do  baisted  ar  tus  do  Saxanaib  tuaiscirt. 
O'tchondairc  Paulin  corbo  dulig  menma  ind 
rig  do  thairbirt  i  n-iris,  roguidh  in  coimdig1  co 
rothorromad  a  tiiaid  7  in  rig.  Rofailsiged  do 
Phaulm  trf  faitsine8  .i.  fechtus  rob6i  for  indarba 

6  h-Edilfraid  6  righ  Nordanimbrorom  co  n-de- 
chaid  do  thig  Reduald  rig  Cantia  for  teiched8 
Edilfraid  techta  co  Reduald  co  setaib  ar  marbad 
Eduni  fa  d6  7  fa  thri.  ly  cath  fora  seilb/  ar 
se,  'mina  marba  Eduni.'9  Roraid  Reduald  co 
mairfed  Eduni.  Adchuala  cara  do  Eduni  7 
roraid  ris:  "Tanac/  ar  se,  dot  breith  dii  na  coem- 
sat  a  n-dis  ni  duit  .i.  Edilfrid  7  Reduald. '  At- 
bert  Eduni:  'Noco  chumcaim-se.  Rodluthus 
mo  sith  7  in  ri.'10  Doch6id  uad  a  chara  7 
roboi  (.i.  Eduni)  i  n-dorus  na  palaiti  co  toirrsech 

7  co  dubach  'na  suidhi  for  carraicc  7  ni  fitir  cid 
dognid. 

30.  Atchondairc  duine  alaind  anaichnidh 
chuca  7  roraid  ris:  'Cid  ar  a  fuile  sund  at 
6enur/  or  se,  '7  each  na  chotlud?  Dia  n-gaba 
mh'  forcetul-sa,'1  ar  se,  'no-t-uaslaicftnd  6na 
dubaib  7  6n  t-snim  fil  ort,  7  noaslaicfind  for  ind 
rig  na  dernai  ole  fritt,  7  biat2  ri  do  cheniul* 
fein.'    Roraid-som:     'Dia   no-m-soera3   ar   na 

r  Leg.:  coimdid. 
8  Add  rofaid. 
*  Leg.:  chenluil. 


L42  EDWARD  G.  COX 

cuimgib-si,  dog6n-sa  a  n-apraidh-se.'4  Dorat 
an  duine  sin  fo  c6toir  a  boiss  for  a  chend  7  roraid : 
'  Is  e  seo  in  comardha,  7  tabair  dot  aire  7  comaill 
do  brethir  in  tan  sin,  7  dena  in  forcetal  atchluinfe 
ind  inbaid  sin/  7  dochoid  uad  iardain. 

31.  Tanic  a  chara  chuca  7  roraid:  'Ba  cob- 
said.  Rocumscaidedu  cride  in  rig;  nl  leic  ind 
rigan  olc  fritt. ' 

32.  Rofecht  in  cath  7  dor  .  .  .  and1  7  rogab 
Eduni  ind  rige. 

33.  Inn-araile  16  tra  tanic  in  fer  De  Paulin  co 
h-Eduni  7  dorat  a  laim  fora  mullach  7  roraid: 
'In  tuc  in  comardha  sa'?  ar  se.  Dorochair  7 
se  crithnaigthe1  fo  chosaib  in  cl&rig,  7  rochreit7 
robaisted,  7  rofaid  sacartu  7  mlledu  do  df- 
scailiud  na  n-idal  robatar  h-i  Cair,  7  robaisted 
i  1-16  na  case  i  n-eclais  Petair,  7  dorat  sosad 
epscuip  do  Paulin  isin  eclais  sin  .i.  eclais  chlar- 
aigh,  7  dorigne  tempulm6r  and  iartain  dochloch- 
aib.  Atracht  ireis  7  creitem  co  mm6r  h-i 
Xordanimborum  7  h-icond  rig,  co  ro-h-erail  cid 
creitem  for  Erbuald  for  rig  Saxan  funedach. 
Ropritchastar  Paulin  do  cheimathaig  Lindifi 
den  t£eb  andes  do  Umbra,  7  rochreit  Blaica 
airri  na  cathrach  Linndocolinae.  Noimtheiged 
6enbenInisBretan  ind  inbaid  sin  ar  m6t  in  t-side. 

34.  Honorius  papa  ind  inbaid  sin  tar  &s 
Bonifait  7  tuctha  epistle  uad  do  nertad  h-irse 
Edune.    Atbath  an  t-uasal-epscop  Iustus.    Ro- 

u  Leg.:  rocurnscaiged. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  143 

gab  Honorius  na  h-inad  an  coicedh.  epscop  ecailsi 
Doruuernensis  .i.  Augustin,  Lurint,  Millitus, 
Iustus,  Honorius.  Paulm  roordnestar  Hono- 
rius in  Lindocolfno,  7  doch6id  co  R6imh  7  dorat 
Honorius  in  papa  pallium  d6,  7  rochind  in  papa 
cipe  tan  atbalad1  epscop  Doruuernensis  epscop 
Caire  do  h-ordned  neich  na  inad,  7  in  fer  aile 
masech,2  ar  na  roscithaigther  tria  rea  fata  na 
talman  co  r-R6im.  Rofaidhestar  d&no  Honorius 
epistle  co  G6edhelo  do  cheilebradh  na  case  .i.  co 
manchaib  la3  .i.  co  Baetan  co  Cronan  co  Colman 
7  Lasrian  7  Scellan.4 

35.  Dorochair  tra  fidune  la  h-Edball  ri 
Bretan,  7  re*  Penta  rex  Mercior[um]  .i.  ri  cas- 
tra.1 

36.  Anno  dominicse1  incarnationis  .dexxxiii. 
Ara  m6ra  h-i  S&xnaib  tu&scirt  tar  a  h-6is.  Ond 
anbthine  sein  rue  Paullnus  Edilbercta  i  1-luing 
co  Cantia  7  ro-h-airimed  co  h-onorach  o  h-Etball 
7  6  Honorio  episcopo,  7  doratsat  lestra  imda  6ir 
7  argait  do  thimthirechv  altore  De,  cros  6ir  7 
fitune2  7  in  cailech.  h-Itat  innosa  in  Cantia. 
Isin  inbaid-si  robaded  Romanus  erchonsol 
ecailsi  Hirofensis  for  muir  Etalda.  Is  don  eclais 
sin  ro-h-ordaig  Paulin  in  pallium  tucc  ab  [Hon-] 
orio.  Iacob3  immorro  deochon  Paulin  fer  eclas- 
tacda  7  fer  n6eb  7  sui  chantairechtaw  h-i  Cair 
re"  ciana.4 


v  Leg.:  thimthirecht. 
w  Leg.:  cantairechta. 


144  EDWARD  G.  COX 

Translation 

1.    The  author  of  this  composition  [is]  the 
wise,  noble  priest  Bede,  a  man  [filled]  with  the 
grace  of  God  in  knowledge  and  piety.     Bede 
found,  however,  an  assistant,  viz.,  Albinus,  the 
very  reverend  abbot,  the  man  educated  by  all 
the  disciples  of  the  learned  men,  Theodore,  the 
bishop,  and  Hadrian,  the  abbot;  for  Albinus 
learned  from  the  disciples  of  Gregory  all  that 
used  to  be  done  in  the  province  of  Kent  and  in 
the  neighboring  lands,  and  what  he  got  from  the 
written  histories  or  from  the  tradition  of  the 
elders.    And   Albinus   explained   to   Bede   all 
which  Nothelm,  the  noble  priest  of  the  church 
of  London,  related  to  him,  either  by  letters  or 
by  conversations.     The  same  Nothelm  brought 
an  epistle  from  Gregory  .  .  .  from  Rome  to  the 
Saxons.     Them  Albinus   taught   so  that  they 
might  be  selected  for  the  work  of  the  holy  Bede. 
Thus  from  the  beginning  of  the  history  to  the 
[time  of]  the  faith  of  the  Saxons,  Bede  learned 
and  gathered  from  the  writings  of  the  ancients 
here  and  there.    Moreover  Daniel,  bishop  of 
the  West  Saxons,  sent  to  him  in  letters  the  his- 
tory of  his  own  race,  and  of  the  South  Saxons 
and  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

2.  As  to  the  beginning  of  the  faith  among  the 
Mercians  he  learned  that  it  was  through  the  two 
noble  priests,  Cedd  and  Cedda,  and  that  through 
them  the  faith  of  the  East  Saxons  was  renewed 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  145 

[he  learned]  from  the  brothers  of  the  monastery 
that  was  founded  by  them,  viz.,  Lestingham. 
All  that  used  to  be  done  in  the  province  of  the 
East  Saxons,  a  part  of  it  came  from  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  ancients,  and  another  part  from  the 
narrative  of  the  abbot  Esius.  All  that  used  to 
be  done  in  behalf  of  the  faith  of  Christ  in  the 
province  of  Lindsey  he  learned  from  the  living 
voice  of  the  noble  priest  Cimbericht.  The 
traditions  moreover  of  the  Northumbrians,  i.e. 
the  histories  of  the  North  Saxons,  many  were 
they  from  whom  he  got  [them],  and  he  brought 
them  himself. 

3.  Britania  insola  occiani  cui  quondam 
Albion  nomen  erat  [is]  800  miles  in  length  and 
200  in  breadth ;  in  circumference,  however,  4875 
miles.  [There  are]  twenty-eight  cities  in  it,  and 
five  languages,  viz.,  English,  British,  Pictish, 
Gaelic,  and  Latin. 

4.  Anno  .xl.  natiuitatem  Christi,  i.e.,  forty 
years  before  the  birth  of  Christ,  Gaius  Julius 
came  to  Britain,  and  he  left  [there]  the  first 
time  his  ships  and  his  people,  and  Labienus,  the 
tribune.    At  last  he  took  pledges  of  Britain. 

5.  Claudius  Caesar,  the  fourth  king  after 
Julius,  came  to  Britain,  and  he  reached  the 
Orkneys. 

6.  Ab  incarnacione  Domini  .clvi.  Marcus 
Antonius  with  his  brother,  Lucius  Aurelius 
Commodus  [became  king].  The  faith  [was  pre- 
served]  in  Britain.    Ab  incarnatione  Domini 


146  EDWARD  G.  COX 

.clxxx.  ix.  Severus  Africanus  Tripolitanus  came 
to  Britain.  Leptis  [was]  the  name  of  that  Afri- 
can city.  [He  was]  the  seventeenth  king  after 
Julius.  The  Saxon  wall  was  built  by  him.  He 
died  in  York. 

7.  He  had  two  sons,  viz.,  Bassianus  and 
Geta.  That  one  [i.e.,  the  former]  held  the  rule 
under  the  name  of  Antonius. 

8.  Ab  incarnatione  Domini  .cclxxxui.  Dio- 
cletian [was]  the  thirty-third  king  after  Julius, 
and  Maximian  came  to  Britain.  In  their  time 
Carausius  held  the  rule  of  Britain  seven  years, 
until  Allectus  killed  him;  and  he  held  the  rule 
three  years  until  Asclepiodotus  killed  him; 
and  he  was  king  ten  years. 

9.  Diocletian  [was]  persecuting  the  Chris- 
tians in  the  eastern  part  of  the  world  and  Max- 
imian in  the  western  part.  In  this  persecution 
there  suffered  St.  Alban  and  Aaron  and  Julius, 
chief  men  of  the  City  of  Legions.  In  this  time 
died  Constantine,  king  of  Britain;  [he  was]  the 
father  of  Constantine,  son  of  Helena,  i.e.,  the 
concubine  of  Constantine.  Eutropius  wrote 
that  Constantine  first  held  the  rule  in  Britain. 

10.  Then  his  father  held  the  rule  of  France 
and  Spain  during  the  lifetime  of  Diocletian. 

1 1 .  Ab  incarnatione  .ccclxui.  Gratianus  [was] 
the  fortieth  king  from  Julius.  In  this  time  a 
certain  Maximus  held  the  rule  in  Britain. 

12.  Ab  incarnatione  Domini  .cccxciiii.  Ar- 
cadius,  the  son  of  Theodosius,  the  forty-third 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  147 

king  after  Augustus,  [succeeded]  to  the  rule  of 
the  world.  Pelagius,  a  Briton,  adopted  heresy 
and  destroyed  the  Christians. 

13.  Ab  incarnatione  Domini  .cccc.  uii. 
Forty-four  years.  Two  years  before  the  de- 
struction of  Rome  by  Alaric,  king  of  the  Goths, 
Gratianus  was  set  up  ruler  by  the  Britons,  and 
was  killed  afterwards.  Constantine  was  after- 
wards made  king  by  virtue  of  the  name  rather 
than  by  virtue  of  fitness,  until  Count  Constan- 
tine killed  him  by  order  of  Honorius.  His  son, 
Constans,  the  monk,  came  and  held  the  rule. 

14.  After  that  then  Rome  was  destroyed 
millisimo  .c°.  xF.  uii0.  [i.e.,  in  the  1147th]  year 
after  it  was  founded.  That  is  the  end  of  the 
Roman  rule  over  Britain;  470  years  after  the 
time  that  Julius  took  Britain  the  Romans  with- 
drew their  military  forces,  and  they  left  neither 
youth  nor  people  of  prowess  there,  and  the  Ro- 
mans took  away  [their  forces],  and  they  left 
nothing  at  all  of  themselves.  Therefore  the 
Gaels  and  the  Picts,  the  two  neighboring  races, 
raided  and  plundered  them.  One  was  gone  to 
the  Romans  with  letters  from  the  Britons  ask- 
ing for  help,  and  a  brave  military  force  came  to 
them  and  a  wall  was  built  by  them  across  the 
island  [as  a  protection]  against  the  Picts  and  the 
Gaels,  and  after  that  they  went  home.  At  once 
the  enemies  came,  and  they  crushed  the  Britons 
as  beavers  [do]  a  garden.  Messengers  were 
sent  again,  and  a  legion  came  to  the  aid  of  the 


148  EDWARD  G.  COX 

Britons,  and  they  fought  against  the  enemies 
of  the  Britons,  and  the  wall  that  was  built  by 
Severus  was  restored  by  them.  The  stones  that 
time  were  seven  feet  in  width  and  twelve  feet 
in  height ;  its  length  [was]  from  sea  to  sea.  [There 
were]  many  towers  on  it,  and  it  was  strengthened 
as  if  they  would  not  come  again  [i.e.,  did  not  in- 
tend to  return]  to  help  them,  and  they  departed. 
[When]  the  Gaels  and  the  Picts  heard  [of  it]  they 
attacked  them  as  wolves  [do]  sheep.  Ab  in- 
carnatione  Domini  .cccc.  xxui.  Theodosius 
Iunior  post  Honorium[was]the  forty-fourth  king 
after  Augustus. 

15.  Palladius  [was  sent]  to  Ireland  by  pope 
Celistinus.  In  the  thirty- third  [year]  of  that 
Theodosius  an  epistle  was  brought  in  this  word 
[i.e.,  beginning  thus]  from  the  Britons  to  the 
consul  whose  name  was  Coetius:  "Nos  repel- 
lunt  barbari  ad  mare,  [mare]  repellit  ad  bar- 
baros.  Inter  haec  oriuntur  duo  genera  f  unerum, 
id  est  aut  iugulamur  aut  mergimur. "  But  as 
a  matter  of  fact  the  Romans  took  no  notice. 
It  was  natural  after  that  time  that  Bledla  and 
Attila,  two  kings  of  the  Huns,  were  devastating 
Rome  and  they  even  destroyed  all  Europe,  so 
that  a  great  famine  came  afterwards. 

16.  Meanwhile  a  multitude  of  the  Britons 
died  of  the  famine  after  being  plundered  of  all 
their  food  by  the  Picts  and  the  Gaels. 

17.  After  that  famine  came  plenty  of  acorns 
and  fruit.     Then  abundant  feasting  increased 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  149 

among  the  Britons  in  that  following  year.  The 
more  easily  therefore  increased  lust  and  passion, 
and  denying  of  God  and  the  church.  After 
that  came  a  grievous  pestilence,  and  a  heavy 
assault  of  the  enenxy  came  upon  them,  viz.,  the 
new  enemies,  Saxons  their  names.  In  three 
long  ships  of  war  then  the  Saxons  came  upon 
them.  Meanwhile  the  Saxons  na  sid  (?)  took 
Britain  with  its  king,  Vortigern,  [full(?)]  vali- 
antly as  if  it  were  for  a  protection  of  their 
[peoples  (?)]. 

18.  Meanwnile  the  Saxons  united  with  the 
Pict  s  and  the  Gaels,  and  they  plundered  the  whole 
of  Britain,  and  they  put  to  the  edge  of  the  sword 
and  the  spear  their  people,  their  kings,  and 
their  chiefs,  their  strong  and  their  weak,  their 
priests  above  the  altar,  and  there  was  found  no 
one  after  that  who  could  preach  the  true  knowl- 
edge to  the  Saxons. 

19.  Three  tribes  of  Saxons  came  from  Ger- 
many, viz.,  the  Saxons,  the  Angles,  and  the 
Jutes.  [There  are]  two  tribes  of  the  Jutes, 
the  people  of  Kent,  and  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  i.e., 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  [including] 
the  West  Saxons,  a  tribe  [dwelling]  opposite  to 
that  island.  Two  tribes  of  Saxons  moreover, 
all  the  East  Saxons  and  the  Midland  and  the 
West  Saxons.  Of  the  Angles  the  mediterreni, 
i.e.,  the  people  of  York,  and  the  Northumbrians. 
Their  chiefs  over  the  ships  were  Horsa  and 
Hengist,  two  sons  of  Victgilsus,  son  of  Guicthe, 


150  EDWARD  G.  COX 

son  of  Guecta,  son  of  Vitta,  son  of  Vecta,  son  of 
Woden,  son  of  Freo7>olaf .  The  heresy  of  Pela- 
gius  at  that  particular  time  [was]  disturbing 
Britain  very  much  until  holy  Germanus,  head 
of  the  Church  of  Auxerre,  and  Lupus,  of  Troyes, 
came  from  the  Franks,  so  that  they  helped  the 
island  through  grace  and  miracles;  and  Ger- 
manus himself  went  into  the  front  of  the  battle 
on  the  side  of  the  Britons,  and  the  host  going 
into  battle,  through  the  help  of  the  clerics, 
said  Hallelujah!  and  the  enemy  fled  at  once. 
The  Britons  forgot  every  evil  and  every  punish- 
ment they  had  endured,  so  that  battles  and  quar- 
rels rose  among  themselves,  and  they  did  not 
give  honor  to  the  sages  that  were  among  them, 
and  contempt  and  evil  entered  into  them  even 
to  their  priests  and  their  clerics,  and  they  would 
not  permit  the  judgments  of  truth  to  be  told 
even  to  the  Saxons  that  were  in  alliance  with 
themselves.  But  God  did  not  abandon  his 
own  people,  or  rather  God  sent  teachers  who 
were  worthy  to  be  believed. 

20.  Ab  incarnatione  Domini  d°.  lxxx°.  u°. 
Maurice,  the  fifty-fourth  king  after  Augustus 
[succeeded]  to  the  rule  of  the  world.  Cuius 
anno  [regni]  x°.  Gregorius  sedem  tenuit  apos- 
tolicam.  [It  was]  150  years  from  the  arrival 
of  the  Saxons  up  to  the  time  Augustine  came 
with  a  multitude  of  Christians  to  preach  the 
word  of  God  to  the  Saxons.  When  they  reached 
the  Isle  of  Thanet  on  the  east  side  of  Kent,  they 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  151 

sent  messengers  to  Ethelbert,  i.e.,  the  high-king 
of  the  South  Saxons.  At  that  time  he  was  in 
Kent. 

21.  The  people  of  Augustine  moreover  were 
forty  men  [in  number];  there  were  interpreters 
from  the  Franks  with  them,  [who  were]  of  the 
household  of  the  bishop  of  Aries,  i.e.,  Aetherius, 
etc. 

22.  The  messengers  spoke  before  the  king: 
"We  have  been  sent  from  Rome  and  we  have 
brought  good  tidings  with  us,  viz.,  an  indestruc- 
tible kingdom  to  those  that  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ,  the  son  of  the  living  God."  The  king 
replied:  "All  that  you  will  need  will  be  given 
to  you  until  we  know  our  counsel  about  the 
faith."  The  fame  of  the  Christians  came  from 
his  wife  Bertha,  of  the  race  of  the  king  of  the 
Franks ;  for  thus  he  received  her  from  her  parents, 
that  she  should  keep  uncorrupted  the  power  of 
the  faith.  A  noble  bishop  [was]  offering  mass 
for  her  each  day.  Liudhard  was  his  name. 
The  king  came  on  the  morrow  with  his  nobles 
to  converse  with  Augustine,  and  Augustine 
preached  to  him.  The  King  said:  "Your 
words  are  beautiful  indeed,  but  I  cannot  [yet] 
assent  to  them;  but  you  will  get  a  gracious 
welcome  until  I  can  test  your  words,  and  do 
ye  preach  to  every  one,  [for]  I  shall  not  hinder 
you." 

23.  The  king  gave  them  a  dwelling-place  in 
the  city  of  Doruvernis.     They  went  into  the 


152  EDWARD  G.  COX 

city  [with]  the  cross  of  Christ  before  them  bear- 
ing the  image  of  Christ  on  it.  They  dwell[t]  in 
the  city  blamelessly  in  the  manner  of  the  first 
church  of  the  apostles  in  constant  prayers, 
vigils,  fastings,  teaching  every  one.  A  multi- 
tude in  that  place  believed.  At  last  the  king 
himself  believed.  He  was  attracted  by  the 
clean  life  of  the  clerics.  He  gave  to  them  be- 
sides permission  to  build  the  church  of  the  city. 
The  clerics  dwelt  in  the  church  of  St.  Martin 
in  Doruvernis  outside  the  city.  The  Britons 
long  ago  founded  it.  After  these  things  then 
Augustine  went  to  Aetherius,  bishop  of  Aries, 
as  Gregory  had  said  to  him  that  he  should  be 
ordained  there  to  be  archbishop  to  the  English 
race.  After  he  came  home  he  sent  Laurentius, 
a  noble  priest,  and  Peter,  a  monk,  to  Rome  to 
tell  him  that  the  Saxons  were  Christians,  and  he 
himself  archbishop,  and  [to  ask]  other  questions 
concerning  the  gifts  of  the  church  which  brevity 
cannot  admit.  Gregory  accordingly  sent  others 
with  them  to  strengthen  the  faith,  viz.,  Millitus 
and  Justus,  Paulinus  and  Rufinianus,  and  he 
gave  the  pall  in  his  hand  to  Augustine,  that 
is  to  say,  he  should  ordain  bishops.  Twelve 
bishops  were  brought  to  him  to  be  ordained  in 
special  places,  viz.,  a  bishop  in  London  to  whom 
a  pall  was  given  by  Gregory,  and  a  bishop  in  the 
city  of  York  to  whom  a  pall  was  given  by  Greg- 
ory. Gregory  said  that  the  priests  of  the  Brit- 
ons should  be  received  in  brotherly  fashion  by 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  153 

him,  and  Gregory  said  that  the  temples  of  the 
idols  should  not  be  destroyed,  but  that  they 
should  be  consecrated  to  God,  and  the  altars 
in  them  and  the  relics  of  the  saints ;  and  Gregory 
sent  [word]  to  him  that  pride  should  not  seize  him 
through  the  host  of  miracles  that  God  has  done 
per  eum,  "for  God  will  say  to  a  multitude  of 
them  on  the  day  of  judgment,  non  noui  uos." 
Letters  were  brought  from  him  to  Ethelbert, 
thanking  him  for  accepting  the  faith,  and  he 
ordered  Augustine  to  unite  with  him.  Then 
Augustine  sat  in  the  seat  of  the  archbishop  in 
the  city,  i.e.,  Canterbury,  and  he  consecrated 
the  church  after  the  manner  of  the  Romans, 
and  he  consecrated  the  church  that  was  built 
by  Ethelbert  a  distance  from  the  city  in  the 
name  of  Peter  and  of  Paul,  and  its  abbotship 
was  given  to  Peter  in  that  church.  The  relics 
of  Augustine  rest  [there]  with  his  successors,  and 
the  relics  of  the  king  of  Kent.  Peter,  the  abbot, 
however,  [was  drowned]  in  the  bosom  of  the  sea 
which  is  called  Anfleot,  and  God  showed  his 
body,  and  it  was  buried  in  the  city  of  Boulogne. 
Ethelfrid  at  this  time  [governed]  in  the  kindgom 
of  the  Northumbrians  (i.e.,  from  the  Humber 
north  ward) ;  he  gave  battle  to  Aedan,  king  of  the 
Scots,  i.e.,ahard  battle  at  Degsastan  (i.e.,  Lapis 
Degsa),  in  which  Theobald,  brother  of  Ethel- 
frid, fell. 


154  EDWARD  G.  COX 

Finit  primus  liber. 

24.  Anno  dominicse  incarnationis  .dc.  Greg- 
ory died.  Bede  has  written  of  his  life,  of  his 
deeds,  and  of  his  care  for  the  Saxons.  One 
day  he  went  in  forum  uenalium  and  saw  there 
two  very  fair  lads  of  the  Saxons,  with  ruddy 
countenances,  yellow  hair,  and  pleasing  skins. 
"Whence  are  these?"  said  Gregory.  "From 
Britain,"  said  the  people.  "Are  they  Chris- 
tians or  pagans?"  said  Gregory.  "Pagans,"  said 
they.  "A  pity"  (with  a  sigh),  said  he,  "that 
such  people  should  be  in  the  possession  of  the 
devil.  What  is  the  name  of  the  race?"  said 
Gregory.  "Angles,"  said  they.  "It  is  well," 
said  Gregory,  "they  have  the  countenances  of 
angels;  it  is  right  that  they  should  attain  to  the 
heritage  of  angels.  What  is  the  name  of  their 
country?"  said  Gregory.  "Deira,"  said  they. 
"Deira,"  said  Gregory,  "de  ira  eruti.  What  is 
the  name  of  the  king?"  said  Gregory.  "Aelli," 
said  they.  "Allelujah  they  will  sing  to  the 
praise  of  God."  Then  Gregory  went  quickly 
to  the  pope  and  said  to  him  that  teachers  should 
be  sent  to  preach  to  the  Saxons,  "and  if  it  is 
right,"  said  he,  "I  shall  be  ready  to  go  there." 
[Such]  was  not  the  plan  of  the  synod.  As  soon 
as  he  assumed  the  papacy  he  sent  Augustine 
ut  dixi.  After  that  then  Augustine  attempted 
to  remove  the  beliefs  held  by  the  Britons  con- 
cerning Easter,  and  to  unite  them  and  the  Saxons 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  155 

in  one  faith  and  [under]  one  head.  The  Britons 
said,  however,  that  they  would  not  have  Augus- 
tine for  a  head,  and  they  would  not  consent  to 
the  strengthening  of  the  faith  of  the  Saxons. 
Augustine  said,  "Since  you  do  not  desire  bro- 
thership  with  them,  they  will  give  you  battle 
and  you  will  fall  by  them. ' '  That  thing  was  ful- 
filled. Ethelfrid  made  a  slaughter  of  them  in 
the  place  that  is  called  [City  of  Legions  by  the 
English,  but]  Legacaestir  by  the  Britons,  i.e., 
Caer  Legion  (Ciuitas  Legionum) .  All  the  clerics 
of  Britain  came  to  pray  for  their  heroes  in  the 
rear  of  the  battle,  after  having  fasted  three  days. 

25.  Ethelfrid  saw  [them]  and  he  sent  to 
them;  twelve  hundred  clerics  [were  there],  and 
only  fifty  of  them  escaped.  Three  hundred 
sevens  of  the  monks  of  Bangor  alone  were  killed 
there. 

26.  Anno  ab  incarnatione  Domini  .dc.  iiii. 
Mellitus  was  ordained  in  London,  the  city  of 
the  East  Saxons.  The  Thames  [is]  between 
them  and  Kent.  Sabert  was  prince  in  London 
under  Ethelbert.  A  church  was  built  in  London 
to  the  Apostle  Paul  by  Ethelbert.  Justus 
moreover  was  ordained  in  Kent  in  the  city  of 
Dorubrevis.  There  the  king  built  a  church  to 
[the  apostle]  Andrew.  Three  thousand  (?) 
from  Doruvernis  Augustine  died.  Laurentius 
was  ordained  in  his  place  after  him.  Mellitus 
[went]  to  Rome,  and  brought  many  gifts  from 
Boniface,  the  pope. 


156  EDWARD  G.  COX 

27.  Anno  ab  incarnatione  Domini  .dc.  xui. 
the  twenty  [-first  year]  after  the  time  Augustine 
came  to  the  Britons,  Ethelbert,  the  king,  died. 
He  was  the  third  king  who  ruled  from  Kent 
to  the  Humber,  Caelin  [being]  the  second  king, 
Ethelbert  the  third,  Redwald  the  fourth,  Edwin, 
king  of  the  Northumbrians,  the  fifth,  Oswald 
the  sixth,  and  Oswy,  his  brother,  the  seventh. 

28.  Ethelbert  then  [was]  the  son  of  Irminric, 
the  son  of  Octa,  the  son  of  Oeric,  whose  name 
was  Oisc,  the  son  of  Hengist.  Eadball,  son  of 
Ethelbert,  [ruled]  in  his  place,  and  he  abandoned 
the  faith  for  paganism.  He  killed  Sabert,  king 
of  London,  who  left  three  heathen  sons.  Mel- 
lit  us  fled  [from]  the  pagans  toLaurentius  in  Kent. 

29.  Laurentius  and  Justus  went  to  the 
Franks.  Laurentius  resolved  to  follow  them 
until  he  was  hindered  by  a  dream,  [which  came 
to  him]  while  he  slept  in  the  church  of  Peter, 
viz.,  he  was  scourged  for  leaving  Christ's  sheep 
without  a  shepherd.  When  morning  came  he 
told  [it]  to  the  king.  The  king  feared  the  Lord, 
and  Mellitus  and  Justus  were  brought  from 
France,  but  the  people  of  London  did  not  let 
Mellitus  [come]  to  them  for  love  of  heathenism. 
Mellitus  remained  in  Kent  in  the  church  of 
Peter.  Laurentius  died.  Mellitus  assumed  the 
episcopacy.  Justus  remained  in  the  church  of 
Rochester.  Mellitus  died;  Justus  [was  chosen] 
to  the  archbishopric  in  his  place  according  to  the 
will  of  the  pope,  Boniface.     Paulinus  at  that 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  157 

time  [was]  preaching  to  the  North  Saxons. 
This  is  the  occasion  of  their  faith,  viz.,  Edwin, 
the  king,  sought  the  daughter  of  Ethelbert, 
King  of  Kent,  for  theis  wife,  i.e.,  Ethelberg  or 
Tata.  Her  brother,  Eadball,  said  that  he  would 
not  give  the  Christian  daughter  but  to  a  Chris- 
tian. Edwin  replied  he  would  not  do  evil  to 
the  Christians,  but  he  said :  "I  shall  not  refuse, ' ' 
said  he,  "  to  be  a  Christian,  if  I  am  able  to  be- 
come worthy  of  it."  The  daughter  was  brought 
to  him,  and  Paulinus  was  sent  along  with  her. 
He  arrived  at  the  house  of  the  king  the  night 
of  Easter.  That  night  another  came  on  a  pre- 
tended message.  On  that  night  his  wife  bore 
him  a  daughter,  Eanfled,  and  she  was  baptized 
and  was  offered  to  God  for  his  absolution  from 
the  wrong  he  had  done,  and  for  the  delivery  of 
his  wife.  She  is  the  first  of  the  North  Saxons 
that  was  baptized.  Paulinus  saw  that  it  was 
difficult  for  the  mind  of  the  king  to  accept  the 
faith;  he  prayed  the  Lord  that  he  would  visit 
his  people  and  the  king.  It  was  shown  to  Paul- 
inus through  a  vision,  viz.,  one  time  he  was  ex- 
iled by  Ethelf  rid,  the  king  of  the  Northumbrians, 
and  he  fled  to  the  house  of  Redwald,  king  of 
Kent.  Ethelfrid  sent  messengers  to  Redwald 
twice  and  thrice  with  treasures  [to  persuade  the 
king]  to  kill  Edwin.  "War  on  his  possessions," 
said  he,  "if  he  does  not  kill  Edwin."  Redwald 
replied  that  he  would  kill  Edwin.  A  friend 
of  Edwin's  heard  [it]  and  said :     "I  have  come," 


158  EDWARD  G.  COX 

said  he,  "to  take  you  where  the  pair,  viz., 
Ethelfrid  and  Redwald,  can  do  nothing  to 
you."  Edwin  said:  "I  cannot.  I  have  made 
a  compact  with  the  king."  His  friend  went 
away,  and  Edwin  was  sitting  on  a  rock  at  the 
door  of  the  palace,  sad  and  sorrowful,  and  he 
knew  not  what  he  should  do. 

30.  He  saw  [coming]  toward  him  a  beauti- 
ful stranger,  and  he  [the  latter]  said  to  him: 
"Why  are  you  here  alone,"  said  he,  "and  every 
one  asleep?  If  you  take  my  teaching,"  said 
he,  "I  should  set  you  free  from  the  gloomy 
thoughts  and  the  anxiety  that  are  on  you,  and 
I  should  prevail  on  the  king  that  he  would  do 
no  evil  to  you;  and  you  will  be  king  of  your 
own  tribe."  He  replied:  "If  you  free  me  of 
these  cares,  I  shall  do  what  you  say."  The 
man  placed  his  hand  at  once  on  his  head  and 
said :  ' '  This  is  the  sign,  and  take  heed  and  keep 
your  word,  and  do  the  teaching  you  will  hear 
at  that  time,"  and  he  went  away  after  that. 

31.  His  friend  came  to  him  and  said:  "Be 
steadfast.  The  king's  heart  has  been  moved; 
the  queen  did  not  permit  evil  [to  be  done]  to 
you." 

32.  The  battle  was  fought  .  .  .  and  Edwin 
obtained  the  rule. 

33.  On  a  certain  day  then  the  man  of  God, 
Paulinus,  came  to  Edwin  and  put  his  hand  on 
his  head  and  said:  "Do  you  understand  this 
sign?"  said  he.     He  fell  trembling  at  the  feet 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  159 

of  the  cleric,  and  he  believed  and  he  was  bap- 
tized. And  he  sent  the  priests  and  the  soldiers 
to  destroy  the  idols  that  were  in  York,  and  he 
was  baptized  on  Easter  Day  in  the  church  of 
Peter.  And  he  gave  the  seat  of  bishop  to  Paul- 
inus  in  that  church,  i.e.,  the  boarded  church, 
and  he  built  a  great  temple  there  afterwards 
of  stone.  The  faith  and  belief  increased  greatly 
in  Northumberland  and  with  the  king,  so  that 
he  even  enjoined  the  faith  on  Earpwald,  king 
of  the  West  Saxons.  Paulinus  preached  to  the 
province  of  Lindsey,  the  south  side  of  the  Hum- 
ber,  and  Blaecca,  the  governor  of  the  city  of 
Lincoln,  believed.  At  that  time  a  woman  used 
to  walk  [the  length  of]  Britain  by  herself  be- 
cause of  the  peace. 

34.  Honorius  [became]  pope  at  that  time 
after  Boniface,  and  letters  were  brought  from 
him  to  strengthen  the  faith  of  Edwin.  The 
archbishop,  Justus,  died.  In  his  place  Honorius 
governed,  the  fifth  bishop  of  the  church  of 
Doruvernis,  i.e.,  Augustine,  Laurentius,  Mel- 
litus,  Justus,  and  Honorius.  Paulinus  or- 
dained Honorius  in  Lincoln.  And  he  [the  lat- 
ter] went  to  Rome,  and  Honorius,  the  pope, 
gave  him  the  pall.  The  pope  determined  that 
whatever  time  the  bishop  of  Doruvernis  should 
die  the  bishop  of  York  should  ordain  some  one 
in  his  place,  and  the  other  man  besides  (?), 
so  that  he  would  not  be  wearied  by  the  long 
stretch  of  the  world  to  Rome.     Honorius  more. 


1(30  EDWARD  G.  COX 

over  sent  a  letter  to  the  Gaels  concerning  cele- 
brating Easter,  i.e.,  to  the  monks  of  Iona,viz., 
Baethanus,  Cromanus,  Columbanus,  Laistrianus 
and   Scellanus. 

35.  Then  Edwin  fell  by  Eadball,  king  of  the 
Britons,  and  before  Penda,  rex  Merciorum,  i.e., 
king  of  Chester (?). 

36.  Anno  dominicse  incarnationis  .dcxxxiii. 
After  him  a  great  slaughter  [was  made]  among 
the  North  Saxons.  Paulinas  bore  Ethelberg  out 
of  that  storm  in  a  ship  to  Kent,  and  he  was 
honorably  received  by  Eadball  and  by  Honorius, 
the  bishop,  and  they  gave  many  vessels  of  gold 
and  of  silver  for  the  service  of  God's  altar,  a 
cross  of  gold,  and  ...  of  Edwin,  and  the 
chalice.  They  are  now  in  Kent.  At  that  time 
Romanus,  proconsul  of  the  church  of  Rochester, 
was  drowned  in  the  Italian  sea.  In  that  church 
Paulinus  bestowed  the  pall  he  received  from 
Honorius.  James  accordingly,  a  deacon  of 
Paulinus's,  a  churchman  and  a  holy  man,  an 
instructor  of  singing  in  York  a  long  time. 

NOTES 

AUTHORITIES  CITED 

Accallam  na  Senorach,  Ir.  Texte,  4.  Series  I.  Heft,  ed.  by 

W.  Stokes,  1900. 
Alt-celtischer  Sprachschatz,  Alfred  Holder,  Leipzig. 
Archceologia  Cambrensis,  London. 
Atkinson,  Glossary  to  Passions  and  Homilies  from   Lebor 

Breac,  1887. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  161 

Contributions  to  Irish  Lexicography ,  Kuno  Meyer,  A-Dno., 

1906. 
De  Hibernicis  Vocabulis,  J.  Vendryes,  1902. 
Eriu,  Journal  of  the  School  of  Irish  Learning,  Dublin. 
Felire  Oengusa,  ed.  W.  Stokes,  1880. 
F.  M.  =  Four  Masters,  Annals  of,   ed.    O'Donovan,     1848, 

1851. 
Goidelica,  W.  Stokes,  1872. 

Handbuch  des  Alt-Irischen,  R.  Thurneysen,  1909. 
L.  L.  =  Lebor  Laignech,  Book  of  Leinster,  Facsimile,  Dublin, 

1880. 
L.  U.  =  Lebor  na  h-Uidre.    Facsimile,  Dublin,  1870. 
Lives  of  Saints,  from  the  Book  of  Lismore,  W.  Stokes,  1890. 
Philological  Society's  Transactions,  London. 
Revue  Celtique,  Paris. 
Saltair  na  Rann,  ed.  Stokes,  1883. 
Senchus  Mor,  i-iv,  Dublin,  1865-1879. 
Sg.  =  The  Glosses  on  the  St.  Gall  Priscian,  in  Thesaurus 

Palaio-Hibernicus,  ii. 
Tdin  Bo  Cualnge,  Ir.  Texte,  ed.  Windisch,  1905.    The  refer- 
ences are  to  the  Glossary. 
Thesaurus  Palaio-Hibernicus,  W.  Stokes  and  J.  Strachan, 

1901-3. 
Ur-Keltischer  Sprachschatz,  W.  Stokes,  ed.  A.  Bezzenberger, 

1894. 
Wtb.  =  W6rterbuch,  Ir.  Texte,  Windisch,  1880. 
Wb.  =  Wurzburg  Glosses  on  the  Pauline  Epistles,  in  Thesauros 

Palaio-Hibernicus,  I. 
Zeitschrift  fur  Celtische  Philoloaie.  Halle  a.  S. 

§1.  1.  h-uasal-sacart,  lit.,  "noble  priest."  Does  it  mean 
anything  more  than  "sanctus  presbyter?"  Cf. 
ixasal-epscop,  "archbishop,"  §23,  and  uasal- 
athair,   "patriarch,"  Wind.   Wtb. 

2.  fuair.  For  a  detailed  explanation  of  the  etymology 

of  this  verb,  together  with  its  corresponding  pas- 
sive form  frith,  see  Strachan,  Phil.  Soc.  Trans., 
1891-94,  292. 

3.  in  t-ab.     The  nom.  form  seems  to  have  usurped  the 

place  of  the  ace.  abbaid. 


162  EDWARD  G.  COX 

4.  in  fer  ro-h-orcthe    trisna    h-uile    disciplu    is,    as 

Meyer  points  out  in  Zeit.f.  Celt.  Phil.,  ii,  321,  a 
misreading  of  "per  omnia  doctissimus."  ro- 
has  here  a  superlative  force. 

5.  rognithe.    The  prefix  of  the  imperfect  should  be 

do-. 

6.  anafiiair,  "what  he  got."    Old  Ir.  i  n-  "wherein" 

and  a  n-  "all  that"  fell  together  during  the 
Mid.  Ir.  period,  producing  ina  n-,  which  inter- 
changed with  ana  n-.  See  Pedersen,  Zeit.  /. 
Celt.  Phil.,  ii,  381.     Cf.  a  n-apraidh-se,  §30. 

7.  Albinus  explained  to  Bede,  etc.     The  scribe  has 

not  properly  rendered  the  original.  Nothelm 
conveyed  the  messages  and  conversations  from 
Albinus  to  Bede. 

8.  epistil  6  Griguir  nach.    Here  something  is  left  out. 

9.  B6id  ndibh,  "the  holy  Bede."     See  ndeb-Martain, 

§23,  where  ndeb  is  used  as  a  prefix  meaning 
"Saint,"  after  the  fashion  of  Latin. 
§2.  1.  Iris  immorro  intinscanta,  etc.  The  sentence  is  so 
incomplete  that  the  syntax  is  unintelligible. 
Cf.  Bede,  "Qualiter  ueroperministeriumCeddi- 
et  Ceadda  religiosorum  Christi  sacerdotum, 
uel  prouincia  Merciorum  ad  fidem  Christi,  .  .  . 
peruenit,"  etc. 

2.  rafoglaim,    "he    learned."     Cf.    with   rofogluind, 

§1 ;  the  present  form  may  be  a  slip  for  rafoglaind, 
or  may  be  the  later  denominative  form.  The 
a  of  ra-  comes  from  ro-a-,  the  infixed  pronoun 
of  the  3rd  sg.  masc,  serving  as  anticipatory 
ace.  to  the  clause  that  follows. 

3.  sochaide.     The  copula  is  is  omitted,  a  recurring 

construction  with  our  scribe. 
§3.  1.  Britania  (Brittania  in  Bede),  is  the  name  given  by 
the  Romans  to  the  land  conquered  by  the  people 
whom  they  first  called  Britanni.  After  they 
had  conquered  a  part  of  Britain,  the  Romans 
fell  into  the  habit  of  using  the  kindred  form 
BrlltOnes,  which  is  in  accord  with  the  pronun- 
ciation of  the  name  on  the  part  of  the  Brythonic 


■v 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  163 

Celts,  as  is  evidenced  by  the  forms  Welsh 
Brython,  "a  Welshman  or  Briton,"  Brythoneg, 
"the  Brythonic  language,"  Brethonec,  "the 
Brythonic  language,  Cornish,"  etc.  But  the 
Old  Irish  word  for  both  the  people  and  the  land 
was  the  plural  Bretain,  which  equates  with 
Brittani.  Hence  the  Romans  must  have  learned 
the  first  name  from  a  Goidelic  people  in  Gaul. 
The  Welsh  Prydain  goes  back  to  *Pretanis 
or  *Pritanis,  which,  in  the  language  of  the 
P-Celts,  corresponds  to  *Qrtanis.  For  an  illumi- 
nating discussion  of  these  names  see  Rhys, 
Phil.  Soc.  Trans,  iii,  vol.  1891-94, 114-117;  D'Ar- 
bois  de  Jubainville,  Rev.  Celt.,  xiii,  398  ff. 
§3.  2.  fo  h-ocht  cethrachat.  It  is  necessary  to  insert  cet, 
"hundred,"  between  ocht  and  cethrachat  in 
order  to  bring  the  number  up  to  48  hundreds, 
which  plus  the  seventy-five  makes  the  required 
number  4875. 
3.  cuic  bMai,  "five  languages."  Older  form  of 
berla  is  be'lra.  According  to  Senchus  Mor,  iii, 
88,  1,  the  four  chief  languages  (primberlai)  are 
Greek,  Hebrew,  Latin,  and  Goidelic;  berlai 
bdin  (Sen.  Mor,  i,  16, 18),  "the  bright  language," 
is  a  descriptive  term  for  Christianity;  and  berla 
fine,  "Fenian  language,"  is  the  name  of  the  lan- 
guage in  which  the  most  ancient  laws  were  writ- 
ten {Sen.  Mor,  ii,  32).  Bearla  to-day,  in  Mod. 
Ir.,  always  means  the  English  language. 

bSrla  Cruithnech,  "the  Pictish  tongue," 
a  people  whose  name  and  origin  are  an  eternal 
exercise  to  the  mind.  In  descent  the  name 
Cruithnech  harks  back  to*  Qrtanicos  (see  under 
Britania) .  Rhys  derives  the  name  from 
cruth,  "form,"  in  Welsh  pryd;  Stokes  refers  the 
Irish  word  cruithnecht  "wheat,"  to  the  root 
*qrt.  Stokes,  Ur-Kelt.  Sprach.;  MacBain,  Gaelic 
Diet.,  and  the  references  under  Britania. 

Goedelg,  the  language,  and  Gdedel,  Goidel, 
of  the  people.    The  Welsh  form  is  Gwyddel,  the 


Hit  EDWARD  G.  COX 

ur-Celt.  form  Gaidelo-s  from  a  root  ghddh, 
Eng.,  "good?"  Stokes  postulates  Goidelos, 
Geidelos,  which  Bezzenberger  compares  to  Gaul. 
Geidumni,  and  Stokes  to  Lat.  hoedus.  See 
Stokes,  Ur-Kelt.  Sprach.,  1894. 

Bede  employs  the  Latin  names  Anglorum, 
Brettonum,  Scottorum,  Pictorum,  Latinorum. 

§4.  1.  co  farcaib  Labienus.  Co  the  conj.  "until,"  "so 
that,"  is  beginning  to  be  reduced  to  mere 
sequence. 

§5.  1.  iar  n-Iuil,  "after  Julius."  The  reckoning  of  the 
emperors  should  be  according  to  Augustus, 
as  in  Bede. 

§6.  1.  CairAbroic,  "York,"  Latin Eburacum.  InAnnals 
Four  Masters  (A.D.  938)  it  occurs  as  Cairabroc; 
in  our  text  it  sometimes  is  written  merely 
Cair.  The  full  Cymric  designation  for  York 
was  Caer  Afrawc.  The  Irish  cathir,  "city," 
corresponds  to  both  cader  and  caer;  hence 
Latin  castra  appeared  in  Welsh  at  times  as 
*catera  and  at  times    as    *casera. 

§7.  1.  Ba  sein  rogabh  in  rige.  Sein  may  be  a  corruption, 
as  Dr.  Bergin  suggested,  of  e-sein,  i.e.,  e-seom 
the  3d  pers.  pron.  plus  emphasizing  pron.  Or 
it  may  be  a  form  of  sin,  demon,  pron.  "that." 
See  Glossarial  Index  under  sain. 

§8.  1.  conidromarb,  "until  A.  killed  him."  For  co-n-did- 
ro-marb. 

§9.  1.  Cathrach  Legionum,  i.e.,  the  "City  of  Legions," 
viz.,  Caerleon-on-Usk;  the  name  was  also  ap- 
plied to  Chester. 
§12.  1.  MacTheolhois,  "Theodosius."  In  accordance 
with  Irish  linguistic  laws,  the  final  -ius,  us,  of 
Latin  names  are  dropped.  The  second  th  shows 
that  at  this  period  aspirated  t  was  not  regarded 
as  silent.  Note  the  following  Norse  and  Old 
E.  names  from  the  Annals:  Amlaidhi,  TF 
222,  Icel.  AmloSi;  Barith,  TF  873,  AU  880, 
FM  878,  Barid,  AU  913;  Icel.  BdrSr;  Adulslan, 
AU 936,  O.E.,  AZthelstan;  Adulph,  AC/ 857,  O.  E. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  165 

Mhelwulf;  Eanfrith,  Tig.,  600,  O.  E.,  Eanfrith, 
etc.  See  Stokes,  Phil.  Soc.  Trans.,  1888-90, 
418  ff.  The  rhymes  in  the  Felire  Oengusa  are 
also  indicative:  Aug.  7,  fethis:  Effis;  Dec. 
9,  chlithi:  Liffi.  Here  th  as  in  thing. 
2.  Pilagius  Brit  do  gabail  ersi.  The  use  of  the 
verbal  noun  do  gabail  for  the  pret.  rogab  is  a 
construction  unfamiliar  to  me.  So  also  in  §24, 
Grigoir  do  h-epiltin  for  Grigoir  atbath.  Perhaps 
it  is  a  locution  employed  in  indirect  dis- 
course. 
§13.  1.  Cethri  bliadna  .xl.  Instead  of  "forty-four  years" 
one  should  read  "the  forty-fourth  king  from 
Augustus." 

2.  resin  de-bliadan  togla  Roma  as  it  stands  is  not  clear. 

The  sense  is  "two  years  before  the  taking  of 
Rome." 

3.  in  choro  for  in  chdru,  an  adverbial  locution  formed 

from  the  compar.  of  cdir,  "proper,"  with  the 
dat.  of  the  article.  Hence  "more  properly," 
"rather."  See  choru  Urn,  §19,  "more  properly 
with  me,"  'in  my  opinion"? 
§14.  1.  Dochuas,  "it  was  gone,"  i.e.,  "one  went,"  3rd  sg. 
perf.  pret.,  to  tiagu.  The  impersonal  use  of  the 
passive  is  rare  in  Old  Ir. 

2.  Rofditte,  3rd  pi.  perf.  pret.  pass.,   "were  sent," 

of  fdidim?  If  na  can  be  taken  as  the  ace.  pi. 
of  the  article  (as  in  Old  Ir.),  then  the  verb  must 
be  regarded  as  3rd  pi.  pret.  Cf.  rofaidi,  3rd  sg. 
s-pret.,  Salt,  na  Rann,  2600. 

3.  The    measurements    are    wrongly    given:    Bede, 

eight  feet  wide  and  twelve  feet  high. 

4.  amal  na  tistais  doris,  ''as  though  they  would  not 

come  again."  The  negative  which  in  Old  Ir. 
should  follow  amal,  when  used  in  the  sense  of 
"as  though,"  is  ni.  After  a  negative  simple 
verbs  omit  the  particle  no-  of  the  secondary 
tenses  (Strachan). 

5.  amalchono  alia  Jo  chairib,  lit.,  "like  wolves  upon 

sheep.     Chairib  should  be  chairchib. 


166  EDWARD  G.  COX 

§15.  1.  dochum  n-Erenn.  According  to  Rhys  and  Win- 
disch,  from  *Iveriu,  older  *PiuSr&-,  -o,  from 
piveria.  D'Arbois  de  Jubainvillo:  lugrlnos, 
nom.  *Iu8rS},u,  ace.  IuSrinnen,  Old  Ir.  Eriu, 
dat.  Erin,  ace.  Erinn  from  *Iverinnen;  Mid  Ir., 
nom.  and  ace.  Eri  (hence  Ire  of  Ireland). 
Welsh  Iwerddun  (dd  for  j).  Latinized  forms: 
Hiberni,  Hibernia.  See  Holder,  Alt-Celt.  Sprach., 
under  *Iveriu. 

2.  Coetium.     The  name  of  the  consul  was  Aetius. 

3.  na  n-Umuneta,  gen.  pi.,   "of  the  Huns";  Bede, 

Hunorum.  This  form  of  the  name  I  have 
not  seen  elsewhere. 
§17.  1.  assaide,  "the  easier  of  it."  Formed  from  assu, 
the  compar.  of  asse,  assa,  "easy,"  and  prep, 
pron.  de,  "of  it."  Cf.  essaiti,  Wind.  Tdin. 
A  less  possible  interpretation  is  to  regard  it 
as  being  made  up  of  a,  prep,  "from,"  and  the 
anaphoric  pron.  suide,  "this";  hence  "from 
this,"  Cf.  lassuide,  "by  this,"  Wb.  31b8.  For 
the  gemination  of  s  after  an  uninfiected  word 
see  Thurn.  Handb.,  p.  150. 

2.  pldg  tedma,  lit.,  "a  plague  of  a  pestilence." 

3.  Uerligern,   Bede,    Uurtigernus,   the  correct  form 

(Rhys).     The   word   means    "supreme   lord," 
and  comes  from  *Uuor-tegerno-s.     In  Welsh  it 
became  Gwrtheyrn  (Gwrthegern),  and  in  Middle 
Irish     Fortchern,     Foirtchern.     According     to 
Nennius,  he  gave  his  name  to  a  district  in  Rad- 
norshire, Gwarthrynion.     See  Rev.  Celt.,  xxiii, 
220;  xxix,  301.     Florence  of  Worcester,  Wyrt- 
georni. 
4.  Perhaps  Ian  menmnach  and  a  tuath. 
§18.     1.  cloidem,    older    claideb,   modern   claidheamh.     In 
the  historical  tales  of  LU  and   LL  the  prefer- 
ence is  for  claidch,  cf.  Wind.     Wtb.  and  Tdin, 
Meyer,  Contr.;  in  the  Pass.  Horn,  of  LB   for 
cloidem.     Cf.  Atk.     I  have  no-  data  for  deter- 
mining when  asp.  m  came  to  stand  for  «;-sound 
of  asp.  b  final.     Cf .  na  ndem,  §23,  for  similar  in- 
stance of  m  for  asp.  b. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  167 

2.  ddine  for  ddini,  ace.  pi.  of  duine.  The  relation  of 
the  two  radical  syllables  is  not  clear.  Strachan 
proposes  an  original  collective  feminine  *doiniq 
or  the  like,  meaning  "mankind,"  which  took 
the  place  of  the  plural  of  duine.  Cf.  Rev.  Celt., 
xx,  198.  Brugmann  traces  ddini  back  to  an 
ur-dheuonio.  In  explaining  why  duine  does  not 
appear  in  the  plural  and  ddini  not  in  the  singu- 
lar, he  postulates  that  originally  duine  denoted 
man  collectively,  and  that  a  plural  form  was 
called  into  being  only  after  the  signification 
of  an  individual  was  reached.  If  duine  at  first 
meant  only  the  mass,  then  naturally  its  plural 
originally  referred  to  the  mass.  Ddini,  then, 
was  the  necessary  complement  when  individ- 
uals were  meant,  and  remained  so  even  after 
duine  itself  had  shrunk  to  the  individual.  See 
Zeit.f.  celt.  Phil.,  iii,  595  ff. 
§19.  1.  In  the  genealogy  of  Hengist  and  Horsa,  the  scribe 
inserts  two  ancestors  not  mentioned  by  Bede, 
Guicthe  meic  Guecta.  These  seem  to  be  mere 
variations  of  Uicta  meic  Uechta.  The  citation 
of  Frelub  as  the  ancestor  of  Woden  should  be 
compared  with  the  A.  S.  Chronicle,  449  Laud, 
547  Parker.  On  an  epitaph  of  Vetta  f(ilhis) 
Victi,  see  Arch.  Cambr.,  July   1890,  p.  234. 

2.  trl  rath  7  mirbuilib.    The  latter  word  is  an  instance 

of  an  ace.  pi.  going  over  into  the  dat.  after  a 
preposition  , — the  reverse  of  the  usual  proce, 
dure  in  Mid.  Ir. 

3.  rotheitset  for  rotheichset,  from  techim  "I  flee." 
§19.     4.  nocho  derig  Dia.     In  Old  Ir.  the  negative  used  in 

independent  clauses  is  nicon,  which  aspirates. 
See  also  noco  chumcaim-se,  §22.  The  verb  used 
here  is  3rd  sg.  pres.,  enclitic  of  do-erig,  from 
di-ess-rSg-,  "he  deserts,"  whereas  one  would 
expect  the  perf.  pret.  doreracht. 
5.  rofuidestar.  Along  with  the  deponent  form  is  used 
also  the  active  rofdid. 
§20  1.  Auric,  a  mistake  for  Mauric,  i.  e.,  Mauricius,  the 
emperor. 


168  EDWARD  G.  COX 

2.  do  phroicept,  vb.  noun  of  pridchim,  "I  preach," 
from  Latin  prceceptum.  For  the  shortening  of 
the  vowel  in  pridchim  from  Latin  prcedico,  cf. 
the  loans  ceist,  Lat.  qucestio;  demon,  Lat.  dcemon. 

§21.  1.  muinter,  "people,"  "household."  Mid.  Ir.  texts 
present  the  word  under  a  great  variety  of  spell- 
ings. It  is  usually  regarded  as  an  early  loan  from 
Lat.  monasterium,  passing  through  the  forms 
monater-  and  moniter-.  See  Thurn.  Handb., 
p.  517.  But  D'Arbois  de  Jubainville  connects 
it  with  Lat.  manu-tera-,  "he  who  is  under  the 
hand,"  i.  e.,  'under  the  authority  of.'  See 
Rev.  Celt.,  xxv,  2. 

§22.  1.  ronfdideg  (a  mistake  for  ro-n-fdided) ,  "we  have 
been  sent."  With  passive  forms  of  the  verb 
infixed  pronouns  of  the  1st  and  2nd  persons 
serve  as  the  subject  of  the  verb. 

2.  chrelit.  The  aspiration  indicates  that  the  verb  is 

relative;  but  the  specific  relative  form  of  the 
verb  not  employed  in  this  text. 

3.  Tdnic  clu  na  Crlstaide  a  sttig.     One  would  expect 

assa  setig,  "the  fame  of  the  Christians  came  from 
his  wife." 

4.  do-s-fuc  for  ro-s-fuc. 

5.  Ro-,  prefixed  to  cpd.  verbs  is  found  only  a  couple 

of  times  in  enclitic  forms  in  the  Old  Ir.  Glosses. 
Later  it  became  more  common  .  Strachan, 
Phil.  Soc.  Trans.,  1895-98,  137. 

6.  Epscop,  from  Lat.  episcopus.    The  word,  like  ap- 

stal  from  Lat.  apostolus,  shows  in  the  syncopa- 
tion the  effect  of  the  strong  stress  accent  of 
Old  Ir. 
§23.  1.  Lotar  isin  calhraig.  Instead  of  the  narrative  pret. 
lotar,  should  not  the  perf .  pret.  docuatar  be  used 
here? 
2.  6  h-drnaigthib  gresachaib.  As  a  rule,  the  dat.  pi.  of 
adjectives  is  uninflected  in  this  text,  with  the 
exception  of  those  which  end  in  a  gutteral  -ch. 
One  may  infer  that  this  gutteral  sound  had  a 
certain   preservative   tendency.     The   loss   of 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  169 

the  inflectional  ending  of  this  case  had  its  start- 
ing-point in  Old  Ir.  See  Vendryes,  Gramm., 
p.  Ill;  Thurn.  Handb.,  p.  280. 

3.  cumachtai  cumdaig,  lit.,  "power  of  building." 

4.  rodochumdaigset,  3rd  pi.  s-pret.  of  cumdaigim,  "I 

found,"  with  -do-  (for  -da-)  infixed  fem.  pron. 
The  verb  has  gone  over  from  the  deponent  inflec- 
tion to  the  active.  The  verb  is  a  formation  from 
cumdach,  vb.  noun  of  conutuinc,  "he  builds." 
Ro-,  prefixed  to  cpd.  verbs  is  found  only  a  couple 
of  times  in  enclitic  forms  in  the  Old  Ir.  Glosses. 
Later  it  became  more  common.  Strachan,  Phil. 
Soc.  Trans.,  1895-98,  137. 

5.  dia  thig,  "to  his  house."    With  this  Mid.  Ir.  form 

cf.  the  Old  Ir.  form  dia  taig,  "to  their  house," 
§14. 

6.  ni  chumaic  in  chumri  conorragba  in  Old  Ir.  would 

appear  as  ni  cumaing  in  chuimre  condaragba. 
The  second  verb  resolves  itself  into  con-da-ro- 
gaba  from  con-gaibim,  the  3rd  sg.  pres.  subj. 
with  -da-  infixed  pron.  3rd  pi.,  and  -ro-  of  possi- 
bility. 

7.  ar  nacharagbad  diumus,   "that  pride  should  not 

seize  him."  The  full  form  of  the  verb  is  nach- 
a-ro-gabad,  3rd  sg.  pret.  subj.,  with  infixed 
pron.  a,  "him,"  after  nach  and  -ro-  of  purpose. 
§24.  1.  con-acca,  for  older  con-  accae,  "he  saw."  The  form 
is  a  ro-less  pret. ;  the  narrative  tense  is  indicated 
by  prefixing  co  n-  when  no  other  conjunct  particle 
precedes.  Thurn.  Handb.,  p.  324.  A  construc- 
tion more  in  accord  with  good  Old  Ir.  usage 
would  be :  Ida  n-6en  dia  luid  .  .  .  atchond- 
airc  .  .  .  Cf.  Phil.  Soc.  Trans.,  1899-1902, 
419. 

2.  cor  era,    "crimson";    cor  cur,    from    Lat.    purpura. 

For  c  representing  I.  E.  p.  and  qu  in  loan-words; 
cf.  Ir.  clum,  caille,  eland,  case  and  Lat.  pluma, 
pallium,  planta,  pascha. 

3.  letheid  ind  lochta  so  for  seilb  diabail,  lit.,  "the  like 

of  this  people  in  the  possession  of  the  devil." 


170  EDWARD  G.  COX 

4.  cdir  a  rochtain,  lit.,  "it  is  right  their  attaining." 

5.  co  dian,  "speedily."     Old  Ir.  seldom  prefixes  co 

to  adjectives  to  form  adverbs. 

6.  ?nad  cdir  .    .    .  bam  erlam  re  dul  and.     Bam,   1st 

sg.  fut.  of  subst.  verb,  is  used  after  mad  because 
the  hypothesis  relates  to  the  future.  The  form 
does  not  occur,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  in  the  Old 
Ir.  Glosses;  it  is  found,  however,  in  the  Salt,  na 
Rann. 

7.  na  bud  cend  ddib  Augustin,  lit.,  "that  A.  should  not 

be  a  head  to  them."  Bud,  3rd  sg.  sec.  subj. 
after  na,  does  not  appear  in  the  Glosses,  nor  in 
the  Salt,  na  Rann.  Bud  started  from  bu  of  the 
pret. 

§25  1.  ni  terna  dib  acht  I.  ccc.  septies,  etc.  The  meaning 
is  much  obscured  here  through  condensation 
of  the  original.  The  sense  in  full  is,  that  of  the 
twelve  hundred  monks  who  came  out  to  pray, 
only  fifty  escaped.  The  three  hundred  sevens 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  battle,  but  is  an  al- 
lusion to  the  system  in  use  at  Bangor  of  dividing 
the  monks  into  seven  parts  with  three  hundred 
in  each  part. 

§26.  1.  Millitum  do  h-ordned,  "Mellitus  to  be  ordained," 
i.  e.,  was  ordained.  Another  instance  of  the 
infinitive  for  the  pret. 
2.  Tri  mile  a  Doruuerui  atbath  Augustin.  Bede  says 
nothing  about  Augustine's  dying  three  miles 
from  Rochester;  he  only  mentions  that  Roch- 
ester is   twenty-four  miles  from  Canterbury. 

§27.  1.  fichi,  another  scribal  error.  It  should  read  clt 
bliadain  fichetmad,   "the  twenty-first  year." 

§28.     1.  romarb  Saperict,  rather  atbath  S.,  "S.  died." 

§29.  1.  Dochoid  Lurint  7  Iustus.  Not  so;  read  Mellitus  for 
Lurint. 
2.  rosraigled,  3rd  sg.  pass,  s-pret.  of  sraiglim,  adenom. 
of  sraigell,  "scourge."  For  the  change  in  loan- 
words of  Lat.  /  to  s,  cf.  furnus,  fibula,  frenum, 
f'inis,flagellum,  etc.,  which  have  become  in  Irish 
sorn,  sibul,  srian,  suanem,  sraigell.     See  Vend., 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  171 

Hib.  Voc.  But  Stokes  questions  if  in  some  of  the 
Irish  words  the  s  may  not  represent  Old  Celt. 
th,  Gr.,  I.  E.  dh.     Stokes,  Goidelica. 

3.  Paulin.     For  the  identification  of   Paulinus  with 

Run  map  Urbgen,  of  the  Historia  Britonum  (Nen- 
nius),  see  E.  W.  B.  Nicholson,  Zeit.  f.  celt.  Phil. 
iii,  108. 

4.  Celtiberga  for  Aedilberga  of  Bede. 

5.  tibred  for  older  tiberad.    3rd  sg.  sec.  red.  fut.,  en- 

clitic, of  do-biur,  "I  give."  This  syncopated 
form  appears  also  in  Salt,  na  Rann. 

6.  dernai.     Instead  of  the  pres.  subj.   after  atbert, 

"said,"  in  historical  narrative,  one  would  ex- 
pect the  sec.  subj. 

7.  dia  coemos  corbam  inraice  de,  lit.,  "if  I  am  able  that 

I  can  be  worthy  of  it."  Co-r-bam  goes  back  to 
con-ro-bam,  of  which  the  6am  comes  from  ba. 
The  ro-  expresses  possibility. 

8.  Rofailsiged  do  Phaulln  trifaitsine.    The  vision  that 

was  shown  to  Paulinus  repeated  former  experi- 
ences of  the  king. 

9.  mina  marba  Elduni,  "if  you  do  not  kill  Edwin." 

Mani  is  the  older  form  for  mina;  the  latter  does 
not,  to  my  knowledge,  occur  in  Salt,  na  Rann. 

10.  Rodluthus  mo  sith  y  in  ri,  lit.,  "I  have  united  my 

peace,  and  the  king." 
§30.  1.  mh'forcetul,  "my  teaching."  Mh  stands  for  7no, 
"my,"  which  aspirates  the  following  word.  To 
avoid  hiatus  of  the  two  vowels,  which  results  upon 
the  silencing  of  /  when  aspirated,  the  first  vowel 
is  elided.    But  why  is  the  initial  m  aspirated? 

2.  Hat,  2nd  sg.  fut.  of  copula.  In  the  Salt,  na  Rann 
(855),  there  is  found  a  1st  sg.  Ham.  Strachan 
suggests  that  Old  Ir.  may  have  had  a  form  bia, 
which  it  used  absolutely,  and  a  ba,  which  it  used 
after  particles  (Phil.  Soc.  Trans.,  1899-1902,  p. 
80).  If  so,  then  Ham,  Hat  may  have  been  influ- 
enced by  am,  at,  of  the  pres.  ind.  of  the  copula. 

3.  Dianomsoera,  "if  you  free  me."  The  form  is  made 
up  of  dia,  "if,"  -no-,  particle  used  to  prefix  pro- 


\ 


172  EDWARD  G.  COX 

nouns,  -m-  inf.  pron.  of  the  1st  sg.,  and  soSra,  2nd 
sg.  subj. 
4.  a  n-apraidh-se,  "what  ye  say"(?).  The  form  looks 
like  the  2nd  pi.  subj.,  enclitic,  of  asbiur,  "I  say." 
Cf .  apraid,  Atk.  One  would  expect  here  the  2nd 
sg.  subj. 

§32.  1.  dor  .  .  .  and.  Perhaps  dorochair  in  ri  and,  "and 
the  king  fell  there." 

§33.  1.  Dorochair  y  se  crithnaigthe,  "he  fell  and  he  trembl- 
ing," a  much-used  idiom  in  Irish.  The  verb  is 
3rd  sg.  unredup.  pret.  of  dotuit.  In  place  of  the 
pass.  ptc.  crithnaigthe,  we  should  have  the  active 
crithnaigud. 

§34.  1.  atbalad,  probably  an  error  for  atbelad,  3rd  sg.  sec. 
redup.  fut.  of  atbail,  "he  dies." 

2.  in  fer  aile  masech? 

3.  la,  "Iona";  Bede,  Hit.  the  usual  Lat.  form,  with 

such  variations  as  Eo,  Hu,  Hya,  Hi,  I,  and  the 
adjective  forms  Ioua,  Euea,  Hiiensis,  Ionensis. 
The  name  which  has  stuck,  Iona,  no  doubt  was 
evolved  from  a  misreading  of  the  adj.  Ioua. 
Probably,  too,  the  citation  of  Iona  as  a  Hebrew 
word  meaning  (1)  dove,  (2)  the  proper  name 
Jonah,  as  variants  of  Columba,  contributed  to 
fixing  the  incorrect  form  Iona  as  the  name  of  the 
island.  See  Fowler,  Vita  Sancti  Columbae,  pp. 
lxv  and  3. 

4.  Bede  names  several  more  abbots  besides  those 

mentioned  by  our  scribe.  The  Brussels  MS.  con- 
taining lives  of  Irish  saints  treats  of,  among 
others,  Baithenus,  abbas  Hiensis  (June  9) .  Plum- 
mer  suggests  he  may  have  been  Baeithin  of  Ban- 
gor, who  died  665.  Cf.  Rev.  Celt.,  xi,  374.  I  have 
just  received  an  announcement  setting  forth 
the  intention  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy  to  sup- 
ply complete  sets  in  permanent  platinotype  of 
their  reproductions  of  MSS.  3409B  and  3410,  in 
the  Biblioteque  Royale,  Brussels,  to  those  desir- 
ous of  purchasing  this  valuable  collection  of  the 
lives  of  Irish  Saints. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  173 

§35.     1.  ri  castral 

§36.  1.  Anno  dominicce,  etc.  According  to  Todd,  MS.  Laud 
610  contains  on  folio  81b  an  account  of  the  great 
plague  633  AD.,  which  begins  thus:  Anno 
dominicae  dc.  xxxiii.  Ara  mora  h-i  Saxain 
tuaiscert  ond  anbthine  rucad  Paulinus  Edilberta 
illuing  co  Cantia  agus  rohairimed  co  h-onorach. 
This  coincides  almost  literally  with  the  account 
in  our  text. 

2.  Etune.     The  governing  nom.  not  apparent. 

3.  Iacob.    Concerning  this  name  see  E.  W.  B.  Nichol- 

son (Zeit.  f.  celt.  Phil.,  iii,  109):  "The  name  of 
Paulinus's  deacon,  Iacobus,  is  suspiciously  Brit- 
ish. I  doubt  if  Iacobus  was  a  common  name  in 
West  Europe  at  the  beginning  of  the  7th  century. 
As  an  Anglo-Saxon  name  Iacob  seems  to  be  abso- 
lutely unknown.  But  as  a  Welsh  name  (starting 
before  the  7th  century  and  passing  through  Ia- 
cob, Iacou,  Iaco,  into  Iago)  it  was  quite  com- 
mon." 

4.  The  last  sentence  is  left  incomplete. 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 

(The  bare  numbers  refer  to  the  sections  of  the  text.) 

a    for  i,  prep,  with  ace.  to,  5. 

a  N-    what;  only  as  subject  or  object  of  a  verb,  1,  30. 
abbaig    beavers,  nom.  pi.  of  abacc,  14.    Meyer,  Contr. 
afritjnd    h-ic  afriund,  offering  [mass],  22.    Lat.  offerenda. 
aid    notice,  dia  n-aid,  dat.  sg.,  15;  usually  in  conjunction 

with  do-biur. 
aidchi    F.  night,  nom.  sg.  29.     The  dat.  has  taken  place 

of  nom.  adaig. 
aine     F.  fasting,  dat.  sg.,  24;  ainib,  dat.  pi.,  23.      *iunium, 

a  Low  Lat.  form  of  jejunium. 
airchinnech    M.  citizen,  nom.  pi.  (form  seems  nom.  sg.), 

9;  Meyer,  Contr. 
aitte    aedificium,  ace.  sg.,  23. 


174  EDWARD  G.  COX 

arsata    adj.  ancient;  na  n-arsata,  subst.  gen.  pi.,  1;  na 

n-arsatha,  2. 
assaide    the  easier  of  it,  17. 
atharcud  (for  at(t)arcud)  'relatio',2.  Sg.  197b4,  200b8,  Rev. 

Celt,  iii,  327. 
atracht    arose,  3rd  sg.  t-pret.  of  atomriug,  33.    From  ess- 

reg-,   raise;   when   pronoun   infixed,  ess-becomes  ad-. 

Strachan,  Tales  from  the  Tain. 

boiss    palm  (of  hand),  ace.  sg.  of  boss,  30. 

brait    F.  plundering,  ace.  sg.  of  brat,  13. 

brathardo  adv.  brotherly,  co  b.  23.  The  adjective  forma- 
tion from  brath(a)ir  should  be  brathard(a)e;  in  Mid. 
Ir.  ending  -ae  becomes  -a. 

brathris  M.  brotherhood,  nom.  sg.  24.  a  m-brathris, 
brotherhood  with  them. 

buidechus  thanks,  dia  b.,  thanking  him,  lit.  to  his  thanks, 
23. 

cailech  M.  chalice,  ace.  sg.,  36.    From  Lat.  calicem. 
canfaid    they  will  sing,  3rd  pi.  f-fut.  to  canim,  24. 
chantairechta    gen.  sg.  of  cantairecht,  singing,  36. 
carat-ben    F.  concubine,  nom.  sg.,  9.   carat,  gen.  sg.  of  cara 

friend. 
cena    particle  of  affirmation,  usually  aspirated,  15.     The 

aspirated  form  became  fixed  in  late  Old  Ir. 
cenel    N.  race,    cinela  (i  for  e),  nom.  pi.  19;  da  chin£l,  da 

chenel,  dual  nom.,  19;  cinel,  nom.  sg.,  19;  ceniuil,  gen. 

sg.,  1;  in  cheiniuil,  gen.  sg.,  24;  cheniul  (for  -iuil),  gen. 

sg.,  30;  do  cheniul,  dat.  sg.,  22. 
cethrachad    fortieth,  nom.  sg.,  11.    Old  Ir.  cethorcatmad. 
cipe     (ci-p  e)  whatever  be,  3rd  sg.  pres.  subj.  of  copula  is,  34. 
chlaraigh    dat.  sg.  of  cl&rach,  boarded,  33.    Meyer,  Contr. 
con-icc,  -cum-aing  is  able;  coemos,  1st  sg.  s-subj.  enclitic, 

29;  coemsat,  3rd  pi.,  s-subj.,  enclitic. 
comacraibhibh     (com-fochraibh),  dat.  pi.  of  comfhocair, 

neighboring,  1;  chomfochraibe,  dual  nom.,  14. 
conerrachtatar    see  atracht;  3rd  pi.  t-pret. 
conorragba    3rd  sg.  a-subj .  of  con-gaibim,  /  hold,  admit, 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  175 

croch    F.  cross,  nom.  sg.,  23.  W.  crog,  Lat.  crucem  (the 

original  vowel  seen  in  gen.  sg.  cruchae). 
cuimqib    dat.  pi.  of  cuimce  distress,  30. 
chumri     (chum-re)  brevity,  23. 

deg-scel    N.  good-tidings,  ace.  sg.,  22.    Cf.  0.  E.  god-spel. 

deochon  M.  deacon,  nom.  sg.,  36.  Lat.  diaconus,  W.  dia- 
con. 

diamlaigthe  past  ptc.  of  diam-laigim  (di-samlaigim), 
I  pretend,  29. 

donafib     (older  donaibhi),  to  those;  prep,  demon,  pron.,  22. 

dorisse  adv.  again,  14;  doris,  14.  A  shortened  form  of 
doridisse;  cf  afrithisse,  older  ar-f.;  frithissi  is  ace.  or 
dat.  of  a  fern,  noun  fritheisse,  esse  meaning  trace,  ves- 
tige; ar-  poss.  pron.  1st  pi.;  do-  poss.  pron.  2nd  sg. 

dulig    adj.  difficult,  nom.  sg.,  29. 

ealathan    F.  gen.  sg.  of  elatha,  composition,  1. 

eclastacda    fer  eel.  a  churchman,  36. 

echlanta     (eclanta?)  Mid.  Ir.  past  ptc.  of  as-gleinn,  he 

selects,  1. 
engna     (for  engnama?)  gen.  sg.  of  engnam,  prowess,  14. 

Wind.  Tdin;  Stokes,  Ace.  na  Sen. 
epiltin    do  h-e,  dat.  sg.  of  epeltu,  verbal  abstract  of  atbail, 

he  dies,  24.    Syntax  peculiar,  an  inf.  used  for  pret. 
erchonsal    Lat.  proconsul,  36.    Cf.  Erpoint  for  Lat.  Pro- 

pontis,  Stokes,  Phil.  Soc.  Trans.,  1891,  p.  56. 

fledogugud     (usual  form  fledugud),  inf.  to  a  denom.  verb 

fledigim(?),  from  fled  feast  (W.  gwledd),  17. 
foithib    on  them,  14;  prep,  fo  +  suff.  pron.  3rd  pi. 
[f]rithairib    F.  dat.  pi.  to  frith-aire,  vigil,  23. 
fuile    rel.  form  of  ata,  subst.  verb  is,  30.     Usual  Old  Ir. 

form  fil,  feil;  the  form  with  the  broad  vowel  is  later. 
funedcha    nom.  pi.  of  funedach,  western,  19;  funedach, 

gen.  pi.  33.    A  derivative  of  fuined,  setting  (of  the  sun). 

Strachan,  Phil.  Soc.  Trans.,  1891-94,  p.  294. 
ftjnetta    adj.  western,  gen.  pi.,  1;  funeta,  gen.  pi.,  69.    See 

preceding  word. 


176  EDWARD  G.  COX 

gein    N.  birth  ria  n-gein,  dat.  sg.,  4.    Verbal  abstract  to 

gainithir,  is  bom. 
gein    M.  mouth,  edge,  fo  g.  cloidem,  ace.  sg.  of  gin;  but  here 

as  if  gein  were  nom. 
gell    N.  pledge,  hostage:  giullu,  ace.  pi.  with  u-infection 

preserved,  4. 
gentlide    adj.  heathen,  accl  pi.  masc,  28.    Lat.  gentilis. 
gentliuchta    gen.  sg.  of  gentliucht  F,  heathendom,  29.    See 

preceding  word. 

i'dal    M.  gen.  pi.  of  idal,  idol,  23.    Lat.  idolum. 
imchomarca    ace.  pi.  of  im-chomarc,  verbal  noun  to  im- 

chomarcim,  I  ask;  hence,  questions. 
IND-aislingi     F.  ace.  sg.  of  aislinge,  vision,  29. 
tNDATT    are  they,  24.    Ind.  interrog.  particle,  +  3rd  pi.  pres., 

dependent  form  of  copula.    In  Old  Ir.  form  frequently 

nasalised  following  word.    Thurn.  Handb.,  p.  277. 
isat    they  are,  3rd  pi.  pres.  of  isam,  22.    Wind.  Tdin. 
itat    3rd  pi.  pres.  of  itau,  ito,  I  find  my  self,  lam,  36.    Wind. 

Tdin,  ito-sa. 

laa  N.  (Old  Ir.  lde,  Ida,  longer,  laithe)  day;  lai,  gen.  sg. 
22;  i  1-16,  dat.  sg.  23;  Ida  n-6en,  nominative  phrase  (note 
nasalising),  23;  innarsele  16,  dat.  sg.  33. 

leith  i  1-leith,  in  behalf  of,  with  respect  to,  dat.  sg.  of  leth, 
side,  2. 

letheid  F.  ace.  sg.  of  lethet,  kind  (Mod.  Ir.,  the  like  of), 
24. 

longis  resindl.  before  the  fleet,  dat.  sg.,  19.  Form  looks  like 
ace,  the  usual  dat.  form  being  longais.  Word  ordinar- 
ily means  a  voluntary  exiling  voyage,  in  contrast  to  imm- 
ram,  an  ordinary  voyage.  Loingsech,  a  proper  name 
"exile,"  Or  gain  Dind  Rig,  Stokes,  Zeit.  f.  celt.  Phil.,  iii, 
p.  4.    Wind.  Wtb. 

lucc  M.  dat.  sg.,  a  place,  24.  Loan  from  Lat.  locus:  o  goes 
into  u  when  following  syllable  has  u-color.  Thurn. 
Handb.,  pp.  81,  522. 

manach  M.  monk,  ace.  sg.,  23;manchaib,  dat.  pi.,  25.  Loan 
from  Lat.  monachus;  the  change  from  o  to  a  perhaps  due 
to  W.  manach.  Stokes,  Lives  of  Saints,  p.  lxxxvi. 


A  MIDDLE-IRISH  FRAGMENT  177 

manchaine     a  monk,  nom.  sg.,  13.     Usually  means  service 

(mainchine,  manchuine).    See  Eriu,  i,  207,  =  a  tenant 

of  church  lands. 
manistrech    gen.  pi.  of  manister,  2.    From  Low  Lat.  mon- 

astirium  monastery. 
miledu    ace.  pi.  of  mil  M.  soldier,  33.     From  Lat.  miles, 

-itis;  declension  imitates  Lat.,  mil,  miled. 

nem-elnide    adj.  uncorrupted  ace.  sg.  22.    Nem-  (Old  Ir. 

neb),  neg.  prefix. 
nessu    comp.  of  accus,  ocus,  near,  17 

6cbad    coll.  youth,  ace.  sg.  14.    Oc,  6g  (O.  I.  6ac),  young. 
6entadachaib    dona  h-6,  to  their  unifying,  dat.  pi.  (subst.) 

of  6entadach,  harmonious,  unified. 
6entjr    at  oenur  by  yourself  (lit.  in  your  oneness),  30. 
ol    said,  24.    Isolated  form,  later  ar,  which  also  occurs  in 

this  text;  used  both  for  sg.  and  pi.     Thurn.  Handb., 

p.  509. 

rainn    F.  part,  nom.  sg.,  2;  raind,  a  part,  2.    Nom.  usually 

rann;  here  dat.  seems  to  have  taken  its  place.    A  rainn 

has  become  a  nominal  prep.,  meaning  as  for.    Thurn. 

Handb.,  p.  487. 
re    F.  time;  re  x.  bliadan  adv.  locution  of  time,  8;  tria  r6a 

ace.  sg.,  3. 
roassar    3rd  sg.  dep.  pret.  with  reduplication  of  asaim,  I 

grow,  17;  ro-h-assair,  dep.  pret.  in  -ai,  17. 
rochomoentadaigset    3rd  pi.  s-pret.   of  comoentadaigim, 

•     I  unite  with,  18;  a  denom.  verb  from  6entadach. 
rocumscaided     (-ged),  3rd  sg.  s-pret.  pass,  of  cumscaigim, 

I  move,  31.     Enclitic  form  of  con-od-scag-,  Rev.  Celt. 

vi,  139. 
roderbor-sa    1st  sg.  pres.  conjunct,  of  derbaim,  I  test, 

prove,  22.    Ro-  prefixed  to  express  possibility. 
ro-h-airfited    3rd  sg.  s-pret.  pass,  of  airfitim,  I  delight, 

hence  attract,  23. 
ro-h-edhpradh     (id-),  3rd  sg.  s-pret.  pass,  idpraim,  I  offer, 

29. 
ro-h-orcthe     (for  -fhorcthe),   past  ptc.   of  for-canim,   / 
teach,  I.    Old  Ir.  foircthe.    Ro-  intensive  prefix. 


178  EDWARD  G.  COX 

roinr^etar  3rd  pi.  pret.  redupl.  of  inrethim,  7"  plunder,  18. 
Form  should  be  inrsetatar  (ind-  rethatar). 

roreccair  (-frecair),  3rd  sg.  s-pret.  of  frith-garim,  I  an- 
swer, 22.  Frith-g-  under  the  accent  becomes  free-.  Here 
f-  aspirated  after  ro-  and  lost. 

roscithaigther  3rd  sg.  pres.  subj.  pass,  of  scithaigim,  I 
weary,  34.    Denom.  verb  from  scith  weary. 

rotharminiud  (for  rotharminuig),  3rd  sg.  s-pret.  of  tair- 
minigim(?),  I  explain,  7. 

rothorromad    3rd  sg.  pret.  a-subj.  of  toromaim,  I  visit,  29. 

8A    for  so,  demon,  pron.,  this,  1;  se,  9;  seo,  30. 
saigthigidib    cona  s.,  with  his  successors,  (?),  23.   Dr.  Ber- 

gin  suggests  with  a  query  that  it  is  "nomen  agentis" 

to    saigim.     'adeo'.     Cf.    saigthetu    'aditus'.     Meyer. 

Frag,  of  Old  Ir.  Treatise  on  the  Psalter. 
sain    for  sin,  demon,  pron.,  that,  14;  sein(?),  7,  19;  co  seirj 

(cosin),  20. 
sairse    work  dat.  sg.  1.  2  opus,  Ascoli  222.    Cf.  Sg.  92b  6. 
sid?    Saxano  na  sid,  17;  gen.  of  side,  'blast' ;?  hence,  Saxons 

of  the  wind,  referring  to  their  mode  of  travel  (?).    Cf. 

Salt,  na  Rann,  Sept.  10. 

sith    M.  peace,  ace.  sg.,  29;  in  t-slde,  gen.  sg.,  33. 

sossud    M.  seat,  dat.  sg.  23;  sosad,  ace.  sg.,  33.    Perhaps 

neuter:  see  Felire  Oengusa,  Feb.  26,  Sept.  21,  sossad  n-. 
sui    M.  instructor,  nom.  sg.,  36.    See  Strachan,  Rev.  Celt. 

xxviii,  202. 

t^thaisti    2nd  pi.  s-fut.  of  tuitim,  I  fall,  24.    Old  Ir.  -este. 
tairbirt    verbal  noun  to  do-biur,  /  receive,  29.     Old  Ir. 

tabart,  -irt. 
tarsat    for  tartsat,  3rd  pi.  perf.  pret.  enclitic  of  dobiur,  I 

give,  take,  15.    Proclitic  form  doratsat. 
toirrsech    co  t.,  sorrowfully,  29. 
TtriR    tower,  nom.  pi.  ,14.    Atk.  tor.  from  Lat.  turris. 


SOME    SCOTTISH    INFLUENCES    ON 

EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY 

LITERATURE 

BY  ALBERT   DAVIS,    PH.D.1 

The  taunt  of  many  writers  in  England  in  the 
eighteenth  century  that  Scotland  had  no  liter- 
ature or  literary  ancestry  is  not  justified  by  a 
consideration  of  the  influences  that  the  neigh- 
bor country  exerted  on  English  letters.  John- 
son's well  known  remarks  on  Scotland  were 
merely  casual  comments,  not  meant  to  be  taken 
too  seriously;  yet  they  but  repeated  the  oft- 
heard  slur  on  Scotland  and  all  things  pertain- 
ing to  that  land. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  the  few  Scottish 
poe^s  were  but  servile  imitators  of  English 
authors,  most  of  whom  were  Londoners.    When 

1  Dr.  Davis  died  of  paralysis,  at  his  home,  Hyde  Park 
on  the  Hudson,  on  June  28,  1910.  He  was  born  in  Brook- 
lyn, February  21,  1881,  and  was  graduated  A.B.  from  Co- 
lumbia University  in  1903  and  A.M.  in  1904.  At  Cornell 
he  was  Graduate  Scholar  in  1904-6  and  took  the  degree  of 
Ph.D.  in  1906.  He  was  an  instructor  in  English  at  Wes- 
leyan  in  1906-8  and  at  Dartmouth  in  1908-10.  Diligent  in 
scholarly  research,  he  was  also  an  enthusiastic  and  suc- 
cessful teacher. 

C.  S.  N. 


180  ALBERT  DAVIS 

James  I  of  England  went  up  to  London  there 
went  with  him  many  poets  and  men  of 
letters  who  desired  to  bask  in  the  favor 
of  the  king.  Thus  was  Scotland  almost  bereft 
not  only  of  writers  but  also  of  literary  tra- 
ditions. With  the  beginning  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century  there  appeared  in  Scotland  both 
an  English  and  a  Scottish  school;  the  one  still 
bowing  to  the  London  dictates  of  fashion  in 
writing,  the  other  presenting  its  thought  in  the 
vernacular.  While  thus  a  feeling  of  dependence 
on  prescribed  English  models  still  existed,  there 
was  also  growing  the  revolt  against  the  style 
of  poetry  employed  by  Pope  and  his  school.  It 
was  the  Scotch  who  first  definitely  attempted 
in  verse  to  present  Nature  in  her  wild  and  less 
cultivated  aspects. 

Allan  Ramsay's  edition  of  Scots  Songs,  pub- 
lished in  1719,  showed  that  an  interest  in  earlier 
poetry  was  reviving.  Ramsay's  importance, 
however,  is  mainly  due  to  his  original  poems 
which  treat  of  Nature.  They  proclaim  him 
to  be  one  ol  the  initiators  of  the  "Nature 
movement"  in  poetry.  Certain  of  his  eclogues 
give  truthful  pictures  of  contemporary  humble 
life,  and  also  present  ludicrous  incidents  among 
rustics.  Though  Crabbe  wrote  more  realistic- 
ally and  with  less  humor,  yet  he  was  really 
following  in  the  wake  of  Ramsay,  inasmuch  as  he 
employed  humble  life  as  the  theme  of  The  Vil- 
lage (1783)  and  other  poems  of  importance.     In 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  181 

The  Gentle  Shepherd  of  1725  Ramsay  made  no 
use  of  the  "simpering  loveliness"  common  to  the 
pastoral  of  the  period;  instead,  he  drew  a  pic- 
ture of  the  Scotch  peasant  in  actual  and  ordi- 
nary surroundings.  Thus  Wordsworth's  theory 
that  common  things  described  in  common  lan- 
guage are  proper  subject-matter  for  poetry,  had 
actual  trial  in  this  poet  of  the  early  part  01  the 
century.  The  language  of  the  speakers  in  the 
poem,  it  is  true, is  not  that  of  the  Scotch  peasant; 
but  the  subject  matter  in  general  and  the  pic- 
tures of  Lowland  and  pastoral  scenery  are 
exactly  like  what  was  done  by  the  poet  of  Alf  ox- 
den  in  his  presentation  of  broad  scenic  impres- 
sions. It  has  often  been  said  that  The  Gentle 
Shepherd  suggested  to  Gay  the  idea  of  his  Beg- 
gar's Opera)  here  we  may  have  a  definite  instance 
of  Scottish  influence  on  one  of  the  members  of 
the  English  Pseudo-Classic  group. 

Ramsay's  original  poetry  in  Scotch  dialect 
goes  far  to  disprove  the  assertion  of  Beattie  that 
the  language  of  Scotland  was  "  incapable  of  use 
as  the  vehicle  of  literary  expression."  Had  it 
not  been  for  Ramsay's  initial  movement,  Rob- 
ert Fergusson  might  not  have  taken  up  the  same 
satiric  and  humorous  method  and  thus  kept 
aglow  the  torch  which  he  in  turn  handed  to 
Robert  Burns.  Both  Fergusson  and  Burns 
show  the  influence  of  the  sentimental  school 
of  writing  which  had  been  started  by  Sterne's 
Sentimental  Journey.     In  all  probability,  how- 


182  ALBERT  DAVIS 

ever,  neither  poet  was  influenced  directly  by 
Sterne,  but  received  his  inspiration  from  the 
much  more  lachrymose  and  sentimental  pro- 
duction of  Mackenzie,  The  Man  of  Feeling,  pub- 
lished in  1771.  Robert  Burns  is  said  to  have 
worn  out  two  copies  of  this  book,  and  the  trend 
of  it  is  very  evident  in  some  of  his  poems,  not- 
ably To  a  Mouse  and  To  a  Mountain  Daisy. 
The  Spenserian  stanza  in  The  Cotter's  Saturday 
Night  was  taken  not  directly  from  The  Faerie 
Queene  but  rather  from  the  poetry  of  Shenstone; 
whereas  the  subject  matter  is  copied  from  Fer- 
gusson's  Farmer's  Ingle. 

All  three  poets  popularized  the  Nature  ele- 
ment in  their  native  poetry,  and  made  the 
peasant  a  subject  for  poetic  presentation.  The 
characteristics  of  the  Scotch,  their  customs  and 
traditions,  figure  in  the  various  work  of  these 
three  men.  Their  influence  might  be  spoken 
of  as  general,  for  their  tone  pervades  later  Brit- 
ish poetry. 

A  more  direct  influence  was  exerted  by  an 
almost  forgotten  poet,  Robert  Riccaltoun,  who 
lived  from  1691  to  1769.  Riccaltoun  was  at 
first  a  farmer,  but  later  became  a  minister  at 
Hobkirk,  near  which  place  James  Thomson  was 
born.  He  became  interested  in  the  youthful 
poetry  of  Thomson,  and  there  is  little  doubt 
that  the  younger  man  had  the  privilege  of  read- 
ing an  original  poem  by  Riccaltoun  which  dealt 
with    aspects    of    winter.      Indeed,    Thomson 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  183 

admitted  in  one  of  his  letters  that  "Mr.  Ric- 
caltoun's  poem  on  Winter  first  put  the  design 
into  my  head"  of  writing  on  such  subjects. 
Yet  this  poem,  which  I  reprint  below,  is  in 
reality  a  rather  weak  production,  giving  as 
it  does  generalizations  instead  of  definite  pic- 
tures. Its  sense  of  gloom  may  possibly  be  traced 
to  the  season  of  the  year  with  which  it  deals; 
its  melancholy  foreshadows  the  tone  of  the 
graveyard  poetry  that  culminated  in  The  Grave 
by  the  Scotchman  Robert  Blair,  in  The  Com- 
plaint or  Night  Thoughts  of  Edward  Young, 
an  Englishman,  and  in  a  much  more  poetic 
and  romantic  form  in  Gray's  Elegy.  Thus  to 
this  Hobkirk  minister,  through  his  interest  in 
Thomson,  we  are  indebted  for  both  the  subject 
matter  that  later  represented  the  casting  off 
of  the  Popean  yoke,  and  the  beginning  of  that 
serious  and  melancholy  poetic  strain  that  dom- 
inated for  a  time  the  poetry  of  England  and 
of  the  Continent. 

A  WINTER'S  DAY. 

WRITTEN  BY  A  SCOTCH  CLERGYMAN. 

Now,  gloomy  soul !  look  out — now  comes  thy  turn ; 

With  thee,  behold  all  ravag'd  nature  mourn: 

Hail  the  dim  empire  of  thy  darkling  night, 

That  spreads,  slow-shadowing,  o'er  the  vanquish'd  light. 

Look  out,  with  joy;  the  ruler  of  the  day,  5 

Faint,  as  thy  hopes,  emits  a  glimmering  ray : 
Already  exil'd  to  the  utmost  sky, 
Hither,  oblique,  he  turns  his  clouded  eye. 


184  ALBERT  DAVIS 

Lo!  from  the  limits  of  the  wintry  pole, 

Mountainous  clouds,  in  rude  confusion,  roll;  10 

In  dismal  pomp,  now,  hov'ring  on  their  way, 

To  a  sick  twilight  they  reduce  the  day. 

And  hark!  imprison'd  winds,  broke  loose,  arise, 

And  roar  their  haughty  triumph  through  the  skies. 

While  the  driv'n  clouds,  o'ercharged  with  floods  of  rain,       15 

And  mingled  lightning,  burst  upon  the  plain. 

Now  see  sad  earth — like  thine,  her  alter'd  state, 

Like  thee,  she  mourns  her  sad  reverse  of  fate! 

Her  smiles,  her  wanton  looks — where  are  they  now? 

Faded  her  face!  and  wrapp'd  in  clouds  her  brow;  20 

No  more  th'ungratef  ul  verdure  of  the  plain ; 

No  more  the  wealth-crown' d  labours  of  the  swain; 

These  scenes  of  bliss,  no  more  upbraid  my  fate, 

Torture  my  pining  thought,  and  rouse  my  hate. 

The  leaf-clad  forest,  and  the  tufted  grove,  25 

Ere-while  the  safe  retreats  of  happy  love, 

Stript  of  their  honours  naked,  now  appear; 

This  is,  my  soul!  the  Winter  of  their  year! 

The  little  noisy  songsters  of  the  wing, 

All,  shiv'ring  on  the  bough,  forget  to  sing.  30 

Hail,  rev' rend  silence,  with  thy  awful  brow ! 

Be  musick's  voice  forever  mute — as  now; 

Let  no  intrusive  voice  my  dead  repose 

Disturb  —  no  pleasure  disconcert  my  woes. 

In  this  moss-cover'd  cavern,  hopeless  laid  35 

On  the  cold  clift  I'll  lean  my  aking  head, 

And,  pleas'd  with  winter's  waste,  unpitying  see 

All  nature  in  an  agony  with  me! 

Rough  rugged  rocks,  wet  marshes,  ruin'd  towers, 

Bare  trees,  brown  brakes,  black  heaths,  and  rushy  moors,  40 

Dread  floods,  huge  cataracts,  to  my  pleased  eyes 

(Now,  I  can  smile!)  in  wild  disorder  rise. 

And  now,  the  various  dreadfulness  combin'd, 

Black  melancholy  comes  to  doze  my  mind. 

See!  night's  wish'd  shades,  spreading  through  the  air,      45 

And  the  lone,  hollow  gloom,  for  me  prepare! 

Hail!  solitary  ruler  of  the  grave! 

Parent  of  terrors!  from  thy  dreary  cave! 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  185 

Let  thy  dumb  silence  midnight  all  the  ground, 
And  spread  a  welcome  horror  all  around.  50 

But  hark! — a  sudden  howl  invades  my  ear! 
The  phantoms  of  the  dreadful  hour  are  near. 
Shadows,  from  each  dark  cavern,  now  combine 
And  stalk  around,  and  mix  their  yells  with  mine. 
Stop,  flying  Time !  repose  thy  restless  wing;  55 

Fix  here, — nor  hasten  to  restore  the  Spring. 
Fix'd  my  ill  fate,  so  fix'd  let  Winter  be, 
Let  never  wanton  season  laugh  at  me! 

In  The  Seasons,  Thomson  brought  to  the 
English  reader  the  country  life  of  Scotland 
presented  from  direct  observation.  This  topic 
of  the  country  and  its  beauties  acted  like  an 
infusion  of  new  blood  into  a  poetry  that  through 
lack  of  nutrition,  was  becoming  anaemic.  The 
vigor  of  the  Thomsonian  subject  matter  was  of 
great  benefit  not  only  to  the  eighteenth  century 
poets  but  also  to  the  tone  of  all  subsequent 
poetry.  Thomson's  theme  and  use  of  blank 
verse  emphasized  the  revolt  against  the  Popean 
model  of  classical  accuracy.  Fortunately  these 
early  poets  from  Scotland  were  not  writing 
primarily  to  receive  the  praise  of  their  English 
confreres,  and  therefore  broke  away  from  the 
stilted  and  conventional  mediums.  It  has  been 
said  that  Thomson  feared  he  might  fail  utterly 
if  he  attempted  to  write  in  couplets,  since  Pope 
had  brought  that  epigrammatic  style  to  such 
perfection.  Whether  this  be  true  or  not,  the 
fact  remains  that  Thomson  began  the  revival 
of  blank  verse  after  so  many  years  of  disuse 
since  Milton's  time.    His  blank  verse  was  not 


186  ALBERT  DAVIS 

perfect,   nor  was  it   exactly   of   the   Miltonic 
type;  but  it  was  different  from  the  couplet. 

In  later  life  Thomson  recanted  in  regard  to 
his  method.  The  Castle  of  Indolence  (1733) 
indicates,  it  is  true,  that  he  was  still  willing  to 
take  risks  as  to  his  means  of  presentation;  but 
in  his  later  poetry  he  fell  under  the  domination 
of  the  Pseudo-Classical  school,  and  thus,  like 
Whitehead,  became,  instead  of  a  leader  of  poetic 
thought,  simply  a  servile  imitator.  Apparently 
he  preferred  to  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance 
rather  than  continue  to  bear  the  brunt  of 
battle. 

David  Malloch  was  another  Scotchman  who 
went  up  to  London  to  try  his  hand  at  poetry. 
His  earliest  poem,  The  Excursion,  includes 
evident  imitations  of  Thomson.  Malloch  so 
far  desired  to  lose  his  identity  as  a  Scotchman 
that  he  Anglicized  his  name  to  Mallet.  His 
importance,  however,  is  primarily  due  to  his 
conscious  imitation  of  the  style  and  matter  of 
his  fellow-countryman.  The  appearance  of 
imitators  indicates  that  the  Thomsonian  cult 
had  taken  root. 

Robert  Blair  carried  on  the  tradition  of  grave- 
yard poetry  which  may  have  been  suggested 
by  Riccaltoun's  Winter's  Day.  It  would  seem  as 
if  Scotchmen,  because  of  the  longer  period  of 
gloomy  weather  which  they  annually  experi- 
enced, were  more  prone  to  consider  the  morbid 
side  of  life.     The  Grave  (1743),  as  its  name 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  187 

might  well  imply,  is  full  of  melancholy;  but  it 
struck  a  note  that  was  quickly  echoed  by  vari- 
ous poets  of  other  lands.  The  Night  Piece  on 
Death  (1721)  by  Thomas  Parnell,  an  Irishman, 
may  have  been  known  to  Robert  Blair,  as  he 
may  also  have  read  the  Night  Thoughts',  but 
so  far  as  can  be  determined  by  comparison  of 
trie  poems,  The  Grave  seems  to  be  an  original 
production.  These  poetical  pieces  of  settled 
melancholy  appealed  to  all  sorts  of  readers. 
People  were  in  the  proper  receptive  mood; 
and  the  romantic  gloom  which  permeated  such 
poetry  may  be  considered  as  a  forerunner  of  the 
Romantic  movement.  The  most  evident  result 
of  this  influence  is  to  be  found  in  An  Elegy 
Wrote  in  a  Country  Churchyard  (1751),  in 
which  the  gloom  is  combined  with  a  pervading 
romanticism.  The  poetry  is  of  a  much  finer 
strain  than  in  either  Blair  or  Young;  the  riming 
scheme  is  much  more  appropriate  than  the 
somewhat  loosely  constructed  blank  verse  of 
Blair  and  of  Young.  This  sentimental  and 
romantic  presentation  of  subjects  dealing  with 
death  is  also  to  be  noted  in  Thanatopsis;  thus 
has  the  influence  spread  from  Scotland  to 
America. 

The  eighteenth  century  in  general  had  a  great 
and  mighty  dread  of  the  sea.  In  poetry  this 
dread  finds  expression:  the  sea  was  not  a 
popular  subject.  In  1762,  however,  was  pub- 
lished The  Shipwreck  by  William  Falconer,  a 


188  ALBERT  DAVIS 

native  of  Edinburgh.  Because  of  his  poverty 
he  joined  a  merchant  ship;  after  various  experi- 
ences on  the  sea  he  wrote  the  poem  on  which 
rests  his  fame.  Even  Falconer  writes  of  the 
sea  in  the  stilted  couplets  of  Pope.  Although 
Falconer  dreaded  the  various  moods  of  the 
ocean,  he  had  an  intimate  knowledge  of  his 
subject;  and  to  true  descriptive  ability  he  joined 
poetical  expression.  The  technicalities  that 
the  seaman  would  know  in  connection  with 
his  ship  are  presented  with  such  minutiae  that 
the  landsman  is  soon  overwhelmed  by  the  termi- 
nology. In  reality,  indeed,  it  is  more  with  the 
ship  than  with  the  sea  that  Falconer  was  con- 
cerned. Though  the  purpose  of  The  Ship- 
wreck was  didactic,  it  suggested  the  possibili- 
ties of  the  sea  as  a  subject.  Falconer  had  the 
opportunity  to  study  and  appreciate  his  material; 
it  is  this  appreciation  mingled  with  awe  and 
respect  that  he  introduced  into  literature. 
Although  a  sea-faring  folk,  the  British  had 
lacked  good  delineations  of  the  treacherous 
deep;  and  Falconer's  choice  of  a  poetic  theme 
is  significant. 

A  more  widespread  influence  of  the  sea  and 
of  melancholy  thoughts  was  furthered  by  the 
work  of  James  Macpherson.  In  1760  he  pub- 
lished as  translations  Fragments  of  Ancient 
Poetry  *  *  *  translated  from  the  Galic  or  Erse 
Language.  These  Ossianic  "poems,"  trans- 
cribed  into    prose   reminiscent   of   the   Bible, 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  189 

are  deeply  tinctured  with  melancholy.  They 
deal  with  the  sea,  the  clouds,  and  the  mists. 
The  interest  aroused  by  the  Fragments  led  to 
the  publication  of  Fingal  in  1762  and  of  Temora 
in  the  following  year.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
a  basis  for  the  poems  existed  among  the  High- 
landers, though  upon  the  poems  as  we  have 
them  Macpherson  put  his  own  form  and  impress. 
They  were  published  at  a  time  when  enthusiasm 
for  the  earlier  periods  of  history  had  been  aroused 
by  The  Castle  of  Otranto;  they  also  appealed 
to  the  public  in  "the  era  of  sentiment  which  had 
sprung  up — sentiment  which  was  domestic  in 
Clarissa  Harlowe,  .  .  poetic  in  Percy's  Re- 
liques."2  The  effects  of  the  Ossianic  poems  lived 
long  after  Macpherson  had  been  gathered  to 
his  fathers.  Byron,  in  his  earlier  years,  fell 
under  the  sway  of  the  poetry;  Burns  acknowl- 
edged the  fascination  that  Ossian  had  for  him ; 
and  the  early  work  of  Coleridge  is  imbued  with 
the  mystery  that  Macpherson  represented. 
x  Abroad,  the  influence  of  Ossian  was  also 
evident.  In  Italy,  after  the  translation  of 
the  Fragments,  a,  new  form  of  poetry  sprang 
up.  Germany  hailed  the  poems  with  joy,  and 
several  of  the  great  Romantic  writers  made 
attempts  to  translate  the  "poem"  into  German 
verse.    France  was  not  at  first  thrilled  by  the 

2  Graham:  Scottish  Men  of  Letters  in  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 
tury, p.  241. 


190  ALBERT  DAVIS 

work  of  the  Scotchman;  at  length  Napoleon, 
reading  it  in  the  Italian  translation,  was  de- 
lighted, and  is  said  to  have  carried  a  copy  of 
the  work  with  him  on  his  campaigns. 

One  other  man  should  at  least  be  mentioned 
because  of  his  direct  influence  upon  a  brother 
Scot.  The  Ballad  of  Cumnor  Hall,  by  William 
Julius  Meikle,  or,  as  he  preferred  to  spell  the 
name,  Mickle,  so  appealed  to  Walter  Scott  as 
a  possible  subject  for  a  novel  that  he  at  first 
intended  to  use  the  material  under  the  same 
name  as  that  which  Mickle  had  employed. 
Instead,  he  wrote  Kenilworth.  This  is  an  excel- 
lent instance  of  the  influence  that  a  poetical 
piece  exerted  on  the  chief  romancer  of  the  Scot- 
tish nation,  in  whose  mind  it  was  transmuted 
into  another  form  of  literature. 

Not  in  poetry  alone  was  Scotland  of  great 
importance  in  influencing  her  sister  country. 
Scottish  novelists,  historians,  and  philosophers 
were  also  imitated  in  England.  In  prose,  of 
various  kinds,  Scottish  writers  are  to  be  praised 
for  suggestions  that  were  followed  out  either 
in  their  own  land  or  in  England.  In  some  cases, 
to  be  sure,  the  Scotch  authors  expanded  ideas 
they  received  from  England  and  this  expansion 
in  return  reacted  upon  the  Southrons'.  Yet 
there  was  a  manifold  influence  purely  Scottish. 

With  the  novel  we  reach  a  later  stage  in  the 
interrelation  of  the  literatures  of  England  and 
Scotland.    There  seem  to  be  only  two  kinds  of 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  191 

novels  that  exerted  much  influence  for  good  or 
ill — the  sentimental  and  the  sea-faring.  In 
Tristram  Shandy  are  the  first  glimmerings  of 
the  sentimentality  with  which  the  work  of 
Sterne  is  always  associated.  In  A  Sentimental 
Journey  appears  the  light  and  frivolous  side  of 
" sentiment."  This  phase — the  so-called  senti- 
ment which  often  deteriorated  in  later  authors 
into  mere  lachrymosity — became  for  a  time  very 
popular.  The  most  " tearful"  of  the  produc- 
tions of  this  school,  The  Man  of  Feeling,  is 
full  of  the  over-sentimental  element  of  Sterne's 
work;  yet  Mackenzie  was  a  matter-of-fact 
Edinburgh  lawyer — almost  the  last  man  from 
whom  would  be  expected  an  orgy  of  sobs.  A 
possible  parody  on  the  "  sentiment "  portrayed  in 
The  Man  of  Feeling  is  Fergusson's  poem  The 
Sow  of  Feeling,  in  which  the  more  evident  and 
less  artistic  qualities  of  sentimentality  are  held 
up  to  ridicule.  The  sow  is  as  prone  to  weep 
over  the  expected  demise  of  her  children  as 
was  Harley  to  "drop  a  tear"  at  the  death  or 
ill-fortune  of  the  many  characters  whom  he  met 
on  his  journey  to  the  city. 

There  is  a  rather  evident  trace  of  sentiment 
in  The  Pickwick  Papers,  Chapter  VI,  where 
the  old  clergyman  relates  to  the  members  of 
the  Pickwickian  group  the  Story  of  the  Convict's 
Return.  In  the  name  Edmunds  may  linger  some 
faint  recollection  of  Mackenzie's  Edwards;  the 
character  of  the  insertion  in  Pickwick  is  very 


192  ALBERT  DAVIS 

similar  to  the  story  by  the  Scot.  Again,  in 
Chapter  XI,  Dickens  presents  the  old  clergy- 
man's manuscript — one  of  the  devices  of  the 
"Sentimental  School." 

Dickens's  name  is  likewise  associated  with 
that  of  another  Scotchman — Tobias  Smollett. 
A  literary  characteristic  descended  from  Rabe- 
lais to  Smollett  and  thence  to  Dickens.  The 
similarity  is  frequently  noticeable  in  the  bois- 
terous, rude,  frank,  sometimes  brutal  traits 
of  the  characters.  But  the  chief  point  of  impor- 
tance in  Smollett  is  his  introduction  of  sea- 
faring life  into  his  stories.  Smollett  had  fol- 
lowed the  sea  as  surgeon's  mate  on  board  the 
Cumberland,  and  therefore  had  an  excellent 
opportunity  to  observe  the  conditions  then 
existing  in  the  marine  service.  Though  we  may 
not  approve  of  all  his  naval  characters,  yet  they 
represent  a  practically  new  element  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  novel.  Such  weak  attempts  to 
depict  the  sailor  class  as  we  find  in  the  stories 
of  DeFoe  are  but  imaginary  portrayals  in 
keeping  with  the  pseudo-historical  atmosphere 
of  all  those  stories  of  adventures  on  the  high 
seas.  Smollett  used  the  style  of  writing  known 
as  the  picaresque,  the  story  being  a  series  of 
stories  revolving  about  one  rascally  character 
in  a  more  or  less  related  degree.  He  also  incor- 
porated a  coarse  element  from  Rabelais.  This 
brutal  coarseness  in  a  modified  form  descended, 
along  with  the  interweaving  of  incident  upon 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  193 

incident,  to  Dickens  in  such  tales  as  Pickwick  and 
the  later  and  more  realistic  novels  of  purpose. 

The  subject  matter  of  Smollett,  though  with 
the  unsavory  parts  omitted,  was  revived  and 
brought  to  greater  prominence  in  America  in 
the  early  years  of  our  literary  development. 
The  sea  and  its  moods,  as  well  as  the  sea- 
faring characters,  appear  to  even  better  advan- 
tage in  the  sea  tales  of  Cooper.  As  in  Smollett, 
so  also  in  Cooper,  there  is  the  recollection  of 
actual  experiences  upon  the  ocean  while  in 
active  service.  But  though  Smollett  sometimes 
liked  to  satirize  the  English  navy  and  its  com- 
manders, Cooper's  purpose  was  more  worthy. 
In  his  sea  tales,  the  glorification  of  the  younger 
country  is  always  before  the  eye  in  the  over- 
powering of  large  fleets  by  small  American  ves- 
sels that  were  little  more  than  privateers,  or 
else  the  escape  of  the  infantile  fleet  from  a 
mighty  pursuer. 

In  the  domain  of  history  there  were  three 
Scotchmen  of  considerable  note  in  their  period : 
Hume,  whose  real  importance  is  in  the  realm 
of  philosophy  though  his  History  is  still  at  least 
a  memory;  Robertson,  now  almost  forgotten; 
and  Smollett.  In  historical  work  they  followed 
in  general  the  trend  of  their  fellow-countrymen. 
For  many  years,  Scotch  students  and  anti- 
quarians had  been  producing  works  dealing 
with  various  phases  of  early  Scottish  life;  these 
works  found  many  readers. 


194  ALBERT  DAVIS 

When  Hume  had  almost  abandoned  his 
philosophical  work,  he  turned  to  history  as  a 
field  that  might  bring  forth  a  rich  yield.  The 
reigns  of  James  I  and  Charles  I  of  England 
attracted  him  and,  to  his  own  astonishment — 
for  he  was  notoriously  indolent — he  kept  at 
his  subject,  spurred  on  by  literary  ambition, 
his  ruling  passion.  At  this  time  there  was 
scarcely  a  work  in  existence  that  could  right- 
fully be  called  a  history;  no  man  who  possessed 
the  power  to  grasp  facts  and  to  reproduce  his 
material  in  literary  form  had  written  earlier. 
The  history  of  the  earliest  of  the  Stuarts  was 
published  by  Millar  of  London  in  1754.  At 
first  the  book  did  not  meet  with  the  enthusiastic 
reception  which  Hume  had  expected,  and  for 
a  while  he  threatened  to  remove  from  the  Brit- 
ish Isles  and  locate  in  France,  where  he  thought 
he  should  be  appreciated.  But  the  threat  was 
not  carried  out,  and  he  soon  set  to  work  on  the 
continuation  of  the  History  of  England  and 
carried  it  to  the  Revolution  of  1688.  This 
volume  was  attacked  by  both  Whig  and  Tory, 
inasmuch  as  it  did  not  favor  either  political 
party.  Despite  these  adverse  comments  and 
criticisms,  the  History  slowly  grew  in  popularity, 
and  Hume  continued  it;  the  house  of  Tudor  was 
presented  to  the  public  in  two  volumes  in  1759, 
and  the  period  from  the  invasion  of  Julius 
Caesar  to  Henry  VII,  in  1761.  There  the  work 
stopped.    Hume  had  grown  tired  of  the  enter- 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  195 

prise,  his  erstwhile  indolent  spirit  having  gained 
control;  he  had  won  the  fame  he  sought,  and 
through  the  sale  of  his  History  had  become  a 
man  of  comparative  wealth. 

Robertson,  although  now  little  read,  was  con- 
sidered the  greatest  of  the  historians  of  his  day 
and  was  generally  placed  above  Gibbon  by 
their  contemporaries.  At  the  time  when  Hume 
was  preparing  the  manuscript  of  the  initial 
volume  of  his  History  of  England,  Robertson 
determined  to  take  up  a  subject  more  interesting 
to  the  Scot,  namely,  a  History  of  Scotland. 
Completed  by  1758,  it  was  printed  in  the  fol- 
lowing year  and  met  with  immediate  success. 
Robertson  was  in  all  respects  a  moderate; 
therefore,  the  tone  of  his  History  offended  none 
of  his  readers.  Though  the  History  was  some- 
what pompous  and  stiff  in  diction,  yet  the  age 
was  so  accustomed  to  stilted  phraseology  that 
it  did  not  object  to  that  fault,  but  enjoyed  the 
animation  and  vigorous  tone  of  the  narrative. 
The  author,  though  born  and  bred  in  Scotland, 
wrote  the  purest  English,  avoiding  the  Scotti- 
cisms by  which  Hume's  work  was  marred.  He 
was  praised  in  highest  terms  by  Horace  Walpole; 
in  1762  was  chosen  Principal  of  the  University; 
and  was  honored  with  other  noteworthy  appoint- 
ments. 

For  ten  years  Robertson  made  no  attempt 
to  add  to  his  fame.  He  thought  of  taking  the 
history  of  England  as  his  next  subject,  but 


196  ALBERT  DAVIS 

refrained  out  of  deference  to  his  friend  Hume, 
whose  province  he  would  have  thus  invaded. 
Finally  he  determined  to  treat  of  the  Spanish 
king,  Charles  V,  and  in  1769  published  three 
quarto  volumes  on  The  History  of  the  Reign  of 
Charles  V.  Despite  the  scarcity  of  the  Spanish 
sources  of  information,  his  work  again  proved 
a  brilliant  success.  It  was  translated  into 
French;  and  the  notabilities  of  the  time  wrote 
flattering  letters  to  the  somewhat  diffident  minis- 
ter. Even  Johnson  accepted  this  sensible 
Scot,  who  was  in  such  awe  of  the  Dictator 
that  he  dared  not  oppose  Johnson's  dogmatic 
utterances. 

Robertson's  next  historical  work  on  the  dis- 
covery and  conquest  of  America,  was  an  out- 
growth of  the  History  of  Charles  V.,  for  he  had 
ome  interested  in  the  development  of  Span- 
influences  in  the  Americas.     Information 

rtaining  to  such  a  subject  was  scanty,  though 
he  had  the  good  fortune  to  receive  valuable 
aid  from  the  Ambassador  to  Madrid.  He  had 
the  canny  Scotch  shrewdness  in  grasping  facts 
and  in  presenting  them  clearly  and  vigorously. 

When  we  consider  that  Robertson  was  badly 
handicapped  because  original  sources  were 
not  accessible,  we  give  him  the  honor  due  to  any 
pioneer  in  a  new  field.  The  same  general  sub- 
ject was  again  treated  in  the  work  of  Prescott, 
who  had  the  added  advantage  of  later  investi- 
gations and  of  access  to  valuable  original  docu- 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  197 

ments.  Yet  Prescott  often  refers  to  the  works 
of  Robertson,  and  sometimes  directly  quotes 
passages  to  make  his  own  statements  the  more 
conclusive. 

Smollett  was  an  historian  not  entirely  from 
choice,  but  rather  from  necessity.  His  work  is 
that  of  the  literary  hack.  He  had  not  the 
knowledge  of  his  fellow  countrymen  necessary 
to  produce  an  important  historical  work;  but 
what  he  lacked  in  erudition,  he  attempted  to 
overcome  by  infusing  into  his  history  all  the 
interest  of  a  novel.  The  History  of  England 
from  the  Death  of  Julius  Caesar  to  the  Year  174-8  is 
not  really  history  but  rather  narrative.  It  has 
vigor,  but  it  lacks  accuracy. 

After  these  three  men  had  prepared  the  way, 
others  took  up  the  subject  of  historical  research. 
Even  in  the  same  century  there  was  one  follower 
who  far  surpassed  his  predecessors.  This  was 
Gibbon,  who  completed  his  masterpiece  in 
1787;  in  his  work  accuracy  of  fact  is  combined 
with  the  interest  of  a  narrative.  He  had  repeat- 
edly read  Robertson3  and  Hume;  and  had  evi- 
dently taken  note  of  the  defects  in  both  men,  so 
took   warning   of   their   experience   by   wisely 

3  "The  perfect  composition,  the  nervous  language," 
wrote  Gibbon,  "the  well-turned  periods  of  Dr.  Robertson 
inflamed  me  to  the  ambitious  hope  that  I  might  one  day 
tread  in  his  footsteps;  the  calm  philosophy,  the  careless, 
inimitable  beauties  of  his  friend  and  rival,  often  forced  me 
to  close  the  volume  with  a  mixed  sensation  of  delight  and 
despair." 


198  ALBERT  DAVIS 

forbearing  to  introduce  a  pompous  tone  into 
the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
Of  all  the  historians  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
Gibbon  is  the  only  one  who  still  holds  a  promi- 
nent place  in  the  realm  of  letters. 

In  his  own  day,  Hume  made  a  greater  im- 
pression by  his  historical  work  than  by  his  philo- 
sophical writing.  Since  his  death  in  1776, 
a  different  view  has  prevailed;  and  it  is  Hume 
the  philosopher  of  whom  we  think  rather  than 
Hume  the  historian.  His  historical  work  has 
been  superseded  by  later  and  more  careful 
writers,  but  his  philosophical  reasoning  opened 
the  way  for  the  much  more  important  theories 
of  Kant. 

Hume  agreed  with  Locke  that  we  have  knowl- 
edge only  of  our  sensations  and  ideas,  and  also 
with  Berkeley  that  there  is  no  evidence  of  the 
existence  of  a  material  world;  but  he  went  a 
step  further  by  arguing  that  we  have  as  little 
knowledge  of  the  existence  of  mind,  for  all  we 
know  is  merely  a  series  of  ideas  or  impressions. 
Whence  they  come,  wherein  they  exist,  or 
whither  they  go,  we  cannot  tell.  We  know  noth- 
ing, then,  of  body  and  soul,  matter  and  mind,  the 
world  outside  and  the  personal  identity  within, 
as  substances;  we  cannot  prove  the  existence 
of  these  things. 

Hume  thus  had  a  great  influence  on  modern 
philosophical  thought.  He  "  aroused  Kant 
from  his  dogmatic  slumbers,"  as  Kant  himself 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  199 

put  it,  and  thus  helped  to  bring  about  the 
modern  critical  movement  in  philosophy.  The 
positive  content  of  his  thinking  was  adopted 
by  the  so-called  Association  School  in  England, 
whose  chief  exponents  are  the  two  Mills  and 
Bain.  Hume's  position  was  the  logical  outcome 
of  Locke's  empiricism.  Berkeley  carried  Locke's 
thought  to  its  logical  consequence  in  regard  to 
matter  (the  external  world) ;  Hume's  in  regard 
to  soul  (the  internal  world) . 

Another  kind  of  literature  that  received  a 
strong  impetus  from  eighteenth  century  Scot- 
land was  biography.  "It  was  on  Monday,  the 
16th  of  May  (1763)  when  I  was  sitting  in  Mr. 
Davies'  back  Parlour,  after  having  drank  tea 
with  him  and  Mrs.  Davies,  Johnson  unexpect- 
edly came  into  the  little  shop.  *  *  *  Mr. 
Davies  mentioned  my  name,  and  respectfully 
introduced  me."  Thus  James  Boswell  records 
his  first  meeting  with  the  lexicographer,  and 
thus  was  fulfilled  the  half-formed  wish  that 
Boswell  had  made  in  1760  to  meet  the  famous 
man.  From  that  time  on,  no  opportunity  was 
allowed  to  slip  which  might  bring  him  within 
hearing  of  his  oracle.  So  assiduous  was  the 
youthful  Scotchman  in  his  attentions  that 
Johnson  more  than  once  expressed  his  annoy- 
ance in  no  measured  terms. 

There  is  not  the  least  doubt  that  Boswell  was 
a  hero-worshiper.  When  he  stopped  at  Corsica, 
after  leaving  the  dull  law  lectures  at  Utrecht, 


200  ALBERT  DAVIS 

he  at  once  attached  himself  to  the  Corsican 
patriot  Paoli,  whose  words  and  actions  he  care- 
fully treasured  in  note  books  at  night.  Well 
had  Boswell  taken  to  heart  the  advice  of  Mr. 
Love,  his  tutor  in  English  pronunciation,  to 
keep  a  diary  of  everything  he  heard  and  saw. 
In  1768  he  published  An  Account  of  Corsica. 
Immediately  he  became  a  celebrity. 

After  the  publication  of  this  book,  Boswell 
went  up  to  London  to  renew  acquaintance  with 
his  old  cronies,  to  shine  as  the  newest  luminary 
in  the  literary  heavens,  and  to  become  again 
the  personal  satellite  of  Johnson.  All  told, 
according  to  the  computations  of  Croker, 
Boswell's  life  in  London  did  not  amount  to 
more  than  two  years;  his  actual  intercourse 
with  Johnson  covered  less  than  three  hundred 
days.  In  1784  Johnson  died;  the  opportunity 
for  which  Boswell  had  waited  so  long  was  now 
at  hand.  Who  so  well  prepared  to  write  a 
life  of  "the  great  bear,"  or  so  thoroughly  con- 
versant with  the  utterances  of  the  literary  dic- 
tator? On  the  16th  of  May,  1791,  The  Life  of 
Samuel  Johnson  was  presented  to  the  expectant 
public.  No  date  could  have  been  more  fitting, 
for  it  celebrated  an  anniversary  of  Boswell's 
introduction  to  the  lexicographer.  This  biog- 
raphy has  become  the  standard  by  which  all 
similar  work  is  judged.  While  the  Life  gives  us 
our  1)'  si  picture  of  the  various  phases  of  John- 
son's character,  it  also  reveals  Boswell  himself. 


SCOTTISH  INFLUENCES  201 

It  shows  the  pleasure  its  author  derived  from 
basking  in  the  light  of  greatness;  it  likewise 
exposes  his  willingness  to  be  snubbed  if  thereby 
he  might  gain  his  purpose.  Burke  remarked 
that  Johnson  was  greater  in  Boswell's  pages 
than  in  any  of  his  own;  Macaulay  but  reiterated 
the  same  idea  when  he  said  that  we  know  more 
of  Johnson  through  the  biography  than  we  do 
from  his  own  writings.  It  seems  odd  that  the 
vain  and  talkative  Boswell  should  have  recog- 
nized his  ability  and  power  to  portray  Johnson, 
and  that  the  seven  years  which  he  occupied  in 
collecting  and  revising  his  materials  were  the 
years  which  proved  most  creditable  to  himself. 

Boswell  showed  to  his  contemporaries  and  to 
his  successors  the  best  possible  method  of  writ- 
ing biography.  The  intimate  and  personal 
touches  throw  sidelights  on  character;  thus 
the  reader  feels  almost  personally  acquainted 
with  the  hero.  Probably  the  most  immediate 
influence  of  the  work  is  to  be  found  in  Lockhart's 
Life  of  Walter  Scott,  which  is  introduced  by 
Scott's  own  autobiography,  followed  by  the 
revelation  of  the  poet-novelist,  which  his  son-in- 
law  enriched  by  many  personal  touches. 

The  eighteenth  century  in  England  is  often 
considered  to  be  the  formative  period  of  our 
present-day  literature.  In  that  century  occurred 
the  poetic  revolt  and  also  the  initial  steps  in 
the  development  of  the  novel.  It  is  not  often 
admitted  that  England  received  any  inspira- 


202  ALBERT  DAVIS 

tion  or  suggestion  from  the  lesser  parts  of  Great 
Britain.  From  this  discussion,  however,  it  is 
evident  that  Scotland  exerted  considerable  influ- 
ence in  the  initiation  of  the  newer  literary  move- 
ments. To  her  we  are  indebted  for  the  "  Nature 
movement,"  which  reached  its  height  with 
Wordsworth;  and  for  the  element  of  melancholy 
and  the  appreciation  of  the  sea.  Other  influences 
are  apparent  in  some  of  the  minor  phases  of  the 
novel.  The  earlier  historians  were  Scotch- 
men, who  brought  to  prominence  that  interest 
in  past  events  which  was  apparently  innate  in 
the  Scotch  mind.  In  biography,  Boswell  set 
the  standard  for  all  work.  In  certain  respects 
Macpherson's  Ossianic  poetry  and  Hume's 
philosophical  reasoning  exerted  the  most  wide- 
spread influence  on  literature  in  general.  In 
the  one  case  the  gloomy  and  romantic  element 
of  the  "poems"  struck  a  kindred  note  when 
carried  into  Continental  literature;  in  the  other 
instance  the  reasoning  was  brought  to  greater 
depth  and  breadth  when  it  was  taken  up  by 
Continental  philosophers. 


A   NEW  NOTE   ON   THE   DATE   OF 
CHAUCER'S  KNIGHT'S  TALE 

BY  OLIVER  FARRAR  EMERSON,  PH.D. 

In  recent  years  the  great  question  in  connec- 
tion with  The  Knight's  Tale  has  been  its  essen- 
tial identity,  in  its  present  form,  with  the  Pal- 
amon  and  Arcite  mentioned  in  the  Prologue  to 
The  Legend  of  Good  Women.1  The  acceptance 
of  that  identity,  as  is  now  usual,  presupposes 
an  earlier  composition  of  The  Knight's  Tale 
than  was  formerly  thought  possible,  a  date  at 
least  earlier  than  that  of  the  Legend.  As  to 
this  point,  Mr.  F.  J.  Mather,  in  his  Introduction 
to  Chaucer's  Prologue,  The  Knight's  Tale,  and 
The  Nun's  Priest's  Tale  (1894),  not  only  asserted 
his  belief  in  the  essential  identity  of  the  Pala- 
mon  and  Arcite  with  The  Knight's  Tale,  but 
dated  them  as  of  "about  1381. "2  This  date 
Dr.  Mather  further  emphasized  in  his  article 
"On  the  Date  of  the  Knight's  Tale"  contributed 
to  An  English  Miscellany  (1901). 3  There,  he 
made  some  use  of  Professor  Skeat's  computa- 

1  The  Prologue,  A,  408;  B,  420. 

2  Introduction,  p.  xvii,  and  footnote. 

3  See  p.  310. 


204  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

tion  of  the  years  when  May  5  was  Sunday,  and 
when  the  incidents  of  The  Knight's  Tale  might 
correspond  with  the  dates  of  an  actual  year. 
This  computation  had  been  printed  by  Profes- 
sor Skeat  as  early  as  1868,  though  he  chose  the 
year  1387  as  the  more  likely  one  in  Chaucer's 
mind.4  Dr.  Mather,  arguing  for  the  identity 
of  The  Knight's  Tale  and  the  Palamon  andArcite, 
prefers  1381  to  1387,  and  his  argument  cer- 
tainly makes  good  the  preference. 

Some  confirmation  of  the  earlier  date  was 
offered  by  Professor  John  L.  Lowes  in  his  article 
on  "The  Tempest  at  hir  Hoom  cominge," 
Modern  Language  Notes,  xix,  240-43.  He  there 
suggests  that  the  'tempest,'  which  has  no  coun- 
terpart in  Chaucer's  source,  Boccaccio's  Teseide, 
probably  refers  to  an  event  of  December  18, 
1381,  when  Anne  came  to  England  to  become 
Richard  Second's  queen.5  The  coming  of  Queen 
Hippolyta  to  Athens  suggested,  as  he  thinks, 
the  current  event  of  greatest  importance  to 
London,  the  coming  of  her  who  was  soon  to 
be  known  as  the  Good  Queen  Anne.     It  was  but 

1  Notes  and  Queries,  Fourth  Series,  ii,  243.  The  note  was 
later  embodied  in  the  Temporary  Preface  to  the  Canterbury 
Tales,  p.  103,  and  still  later  in  Skeat's  Chaucer  (1897f.). 

6  Froissart  says  that  Anne  sailed  from  Calais  on  Wed- 
nesday, landing  in  England  the  same  day  (see  Chronicles, 
bk.  ii,  ch.  86).  On  the  basis  of  Professor  Skeat's  calcula- 
tion that  May  5,  1381,  was  Sunday,  this  Wednesday  in  Decem- 
ber would  be  the  eighteenth.  As  Lowes  notes,  chroniclers 
vary  a  little  in  the  date,  and  C.  Oman  {Pol.  Hist,  of  England, 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       205 

a  step  in  the  association  of  ideas  to  allude  to 
what  must  have  impressed  Chaucer  and  his 
contemporaries  as  a  singular  instance  of  super- 
natural power.  See  the  quotations  from  the 
chroniclers  given  in  the  article  mentioned. 

Beyond  this,  so  far  as  I  have  seen,  there  has 
been  no  further  attempt  to  confirm  so  early  a 
date  for  The  Knight's  Tale.  Professor  John  S. 
P.  Tatlock,  in  his  Development  and  Chronology 
of  Chaucer's  Works,6  argues  for  1384-6,  and  Mr. 
A.  W.  Pollard,  in  his  Introductionto  The  Knight's 
Tale  (1903),  assumes  a  similar  period.  Neither 
accepts  the  conclusions  of  Mather  and  Lowes, 
Tatlock  arguing  against  them  in  detail.  Yet 
further  confirmation  of  the  year  1381  is  possible, 
I  believe,  from  a  passage  which  occurs  near  the 
close  of  the  Tale,  when  Theseus  is  about  to 
propose  the  marriage  of  Palamon  and  Emily. 
We  may  begin  with  line  2967  of  Group  A  (1.  2109 
of  the  Tale  proper) ,  and  continue  through  2974, 
though  not  all  the  lines  are  equally  important 
for  our  purpose : 


iv,  66)  says  Dec.  21.  In  discussing  "The  Prologue  to  the 
Legend  of  Good  Women  Considered  in  its  Chronological 
Relations"  (Publ.  Mod.  Lang.  Assn.,  xx,  843)  Lowes  refers 
to  his  former  article  in  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  and,  regarding 
Professor  Skeat's  computation,  mentions  'the  very  prob- 
able relation  of  the  series  in  which  it  [the  third  of  May] 
stands  to  the  calendar  of  the  current  year.'  In  other  words 
he  seems  to  approve  the  use  made  of  that  computation. 
8  Chaucer  Society,  Second  Series  (1907),  p.  70. 


200  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

'  'By  processe  and  by  lengthe  of  certeyn  yeres, 
Al  stynted  is  the  moornynge  and  the  teres 
Of  Grekes,   by  oon  general  assent. 
Thanne  semed  me  ther  was  a  parlement 
At  Athenes,  upon  certein  poynts  and  caas; 
Among  the  whiche  poynts  y-spoken  was, 
To  have  with  certein  contrees  alliaunce, 
And  have  fully  of  Thebans  obeissaunce." 

To  the  first  part  of  this  passage  there  is  a 
rough  correspondence  in  Teseide  xii,  st.  3; 

"Dappoiche  furon  piu  giorni  passati 
Dopo    lo    sventurato    avvenimento, 
Con  Teseo  essendo  gli  Greci  adunati, 
Parve  di  general  consentimento,"  etc. 

But  for  the  last  four  lines  there  is  nothing  in 
the  original,  as  Professor  Lounsbury  early 
pointed  out  in  his  Studies  in  Chaucer,  i,  46 : 

The  Italian  work  mentions  days  as  passed  and  not 
years.  It  has  no  allusion  to  the  summoning  of  a 
parliament  for  the  purpose  of  considering  questions 
of  peace  and  war.  These  are  the  alterations  and 
additions  made  by  the  English  poet. 

Professor  Lounsbury  did  not  further  explain 
the  passage,  and  special  attention  has  been 
called  to  it  but  rarely.  Professor  Skeat  merely 
adds,  on  lines  2967-2986,  "Cf.  the  Teseide  xii, 
3-5."  Mr.  Pollard  has  an  interesting  note  on 
'Thanne  semed  me,"  in  his  edition  of  The 
Knight's  Tale: 

This  strange  phrase  may  be  a  reminiscence  of 
Boccaccio's  'parve'  in  the  lines  'Con  Teseo  essendo 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE        207 

gli  Greci  adunati,  Parve  di  general  consentimento 
Ch'  i'  tristi  pianti  omai  fosser  lasciati' — it  seemed 
good  to  the  Greeks  in  council  to  give  over  mourning. 
Otherwise  we  can  only  explain  Chaucer's  '  semed  me' 
as  a  relic  of  the  dream  form  in  which  he  cast  several 
of  his  earlier  poems.     Cf.  'saugh  I'  of  1.  1137. 

Even  the  first  part  of  this  note  is  not  very  con- 
vincing, while  surely  Mr.  Pollard's  free  trans- 
lation of  the  Italian,  especially  his  'in  council/ 
seems  to  imply  a  closer  resemblance  to  the  Eng- 
lish than  actually  exists. 

Only  Mr.  H.  B.  Hinckley,  in  his  Notes  on 
Chaucer,  has  attempted  to  explain  the  last  four 
lines  of  the  passage.  Of  these  he  says :  "  Chau- 
cer had  probably  heard  something  of  the  actual 
political  union  of  Athens  and  Thebes  (see  p.  54), 
which  he  is  here  trying  to  recall. ' '  On  the  page 
cited  he  refers  to  "the  establishment  of  the  so- 
called  Latin  Empire  of  Constantinople  (A.  D. 
1204),  to  which  the  Duchy  of  Athens  was  soon 
added  as  a  fief."  Some  other  details  are  given, 
but  none  that  convince  me  Chaucer  had  in  mind 
facts  so  remote  in  time  and  place. 

Far  simpler  and  more  reasonable  than  any  of 
these  explanations,  it  seems  to  me,  is  it  to  con- 
nect these  lines  with  events  that  must  have  been 
in  every  courtier's  mind,  if  not  in  that  of  every 
Englishman,  during  a  considerable  part  of  the 
year  1381  and  the  early  part  of  1382.  I  refer 
especially  to  that  alliance  of  England  and  Bo- 
hemia which  accompanied  the  marriage  of  Anne 


208  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

and  the  young  Richard  II.  If  emphasis  be 
placed  on  Chaucer's  'contrees'  of  line  2973,  we 
may  remember  that  the  alliance  of  Bohemia 
and  England  was  but  part  of  a  great  European 
league  for  the  support  of  Pope  Urban  VI  against 
Clement  VII,  the  schismatic.  Of  these  the 
Bohemian  alliance  is  more  important  for  Eng- 
land. That  accompaniment  of  the  marriage  con- 
tract has  been  little  considered  in  the  biogra- 
phies of  Chaucer,  and  perhaps  on  this  account  its 
relation  to  these  lines  has  not  been  fully  appre- 
ciated. Yet  it  was  highly  important  in  its  day, 
as  it  will  be  easy  to  show.  Indeed,  while  alli- 
ances of  a  minor  sort  were  rather  frequent, 
especially  during  the  reign  of  Edward  III,  there 
was  no  such  alliance  of  independent  states 
accompanied  by  a  royal  marriage  to  which  the 
lines  of  Chaucer  could  refer,  except  this  of  the 
years  1381-2.  Besides,  it  was  just  such  an 
event  as  would  have  impressed  the  mind  of  the 
poet,  himself  more  than  once  engaged  in  similar 
foreign  relations  of  his  country. 

To  show  at  once  that  the  alliance  of  England 
with  a  foreign  state  and  the  marriage  of  the 
young  king  were  regarded  as  important,  we 
need  only  note  the  language  of  Froissart.  I 
quote  from  the  translation  of  Johnes : 

About  this  same  season,  there  were  many  councils 
held  in  England,  by  the  uncles  of  the  king,  the  pre- 
lates and  barons,  relative  to  marrying  the  young 
king  Richard.     The  English  would  have  preferred 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       209 

a  princess  of  Hainault  out  of  love  for  that  good  lady 
queen  Philippa,  who  had  been  so  virtuous,  liberal 
and  honorable,  and  who  had  come  from  Hainault; 
but  Duke  Albert,  at  that  time,  had  not  any  daughters 
marriageable.  The  Duke  of  Lancaster  would  will- 
ingly have  seen  the  king,  his  nephew,  married  to  his 
daughter,  whom  he  had  had  by  the  'lady  Blanch  of 
Lancaster,  but  the  people  would  not  have  consented 
to  this  for  two  reasons;  that  the  lady  was  his  cousin- 
german,  and  too  nearly  related;  and  that  they  wished 
the  king  to  choose  a  queen  from  beyond  sea,  in  order 
to  gain  stronger  alliances.  The  sister  of  the  king 
of  Bohemia  and  of  Germany,  daughter  of  the  lately 
deceased  emperor,  was  then  proposed  and  the  whole 
council  assented  to  it.7 

Yet  even  the  language  of  Froissart,  explicit 
as  it  is  regarding  the  wish  for  a  foreign  alliance, 
does  not  emphasize  the  importance  of  this  league 
between  England  and  Bohemia.  To  under- 
stand it  fully,  we  must  have  in  mind  the  more 
exact  situation  of  England  in  this  period.  We 
must  remember,  that  the  war  with  France  had 
already  been  carried  on  intermittently  for  forty 
years  when  Richard  came  to  the  throne;  that 
the  glories  of  Sluys,  Crecy,  and  Poitiers  had  been 

7  Chronicles  ii,  ch.  43;  Johnes,  i,  592-3.  It  will  be  no- 
ticed that  Froissart,  after  mentioning  the  interest  in  the 
marriage,  hastens  to  that  choice  which  finally  became  the 
match.  He  places  this  interest  in  the  king's  marriage  just 
after  the  death  of  Charles  IV  of  Bohemia,  Nov.  29,  1378. 
The  rest  of  his  account  refers  to  later  events.  But  Frois- 
sart also  mentions  earlier  negotiations  for  the  marriage  of 
the  prince  Richard,  as  we  shall  see. 


210  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

more  than  clouded  by  the  later  failures  of  the 
Black  Prince  and  the  great  Edward;  that  the 
command  of  the  sea  had  been  lost,  and  large 
portions  of  the  French  possessions  wrested  from 
the  empire  in  the  early  seventies;  and  that  at 
the  death  of  Edward  III  every  port  was  closed, 
lest  the  news  should  place  England  at  the  mercy 
of  her  hereditary  foe.8  All  these  were  reasons 
why  England  was  in  need  as  never  before,  and 
why  Pope  Gregory  XI,  in  the  exercise  of  his 
power  as  mediator,  had  tried  to  bring  the  war- 
ring nations  together  by  the  marriage  of  the 
young  Richard,  even  while  still  heir  to  the 
throne,  with  a  princess  of  France.9 

The  failure  of  the  efforts  to  bring  England  and 
France  together  in  1376-7  and  the  early  part 
of  1378  was  soon  followed  by  an  event  quite 
as  great  in  European  history  as  the  Hundred 
Years  War.     Richard  II  had  been  on  the  throne 


8  Froissart's  Chronicles,  i,  ch.  327;  Johnes,  i,  510. 

9  In  these  negotiations  regarding  the  marriage  of  the 
young  prince,  Chaucer  was  at  least  twice  engaged.  See  the 
discussion  in  Skeat's  Chaucer  i,  xxvii  f . ;  Longmans,  The  Life 
and  Times  of  Edward  III,  ii,  271f . ;  Froissart's  Chronicles  i, 
ch.  326,  where  Chaucer  is  mentioned  as  one  of  the  negotia- 
tors. It  may  be  noted  also  that  the  marriage  of  Richard 
did  not  become  an  important  consideration  until  after  he 
been  acknowledged  heir  to  the  throne,  just  after  the 
Black  Prince  died  in  1376.  Then  the  'Good'  Parliament,  in 
the  very  month  of  the  Black  Prince's  death,  had  Richard 
brought  before  it  and  proclaimed  by  the  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury as  '  the  true  heir  apparent  of  the  throne ;' .  Longmans, 
ii,  256. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       211 

scarcely  more  than  a  year  when  Gregory  XI 
died  (March,  1378),  Urban  VI  was  elected,  and 
before  many  months  Christendom  was  torn 
asunder  by  the  great  schism  of  the  papacy.  This 
breaking  of  long-established  religious  relations 
had  the  most  far-reaching  consequences.  The 
nations  were  now  compelled  to  decide  between 
rival  popes,  and  the  decisions  brought  a  new 
alignment  in  western  Europe.  France  naturally 
espoused  the  cause  of  Clement,  the  French  pope. 
England  received  the  representatives  of  both 
popes  at  the  Gloucester  parliament  of  October- 
November,  1378,  and  decided  to  hold  with 
Urban.  Under  these  circumstances  there  was 
no  papal  mediator  to  urge  a  close  of  the  dis- 
astrous French  war,  or  a  union  of  the  two  coun- 
tries on  the  basis  of  a  royal  marriage.  It  was 
thus  inevitable  that  England  should  look  else- 
where for  a  queen,  and  for  such  alliances  as  she 
should   thereafter   form. 

We  need  not  consider  all  the  various  sugges- 
tions of  a  bride  for  the  young  king,  some  of 
them  noted  from  Froissart.  Most  interesting  is 
the  proposal  of  Katherine,  daughter  of  that 
Bernabo  Visconti  to  whom  Chaucer  had  gone 
as  ambassador  in  1378,  perhaps  partly  in  con- 
nection with  this  same  business  of  his  young 
master's  marriage.10    The  appointment  of  ne- 

10  The  conjecture  is  made  by  Professor  Tatlock  in  The 
Development  and  Chronology  of  Chaucer's  Works,  p.  41.  It 
is  interesting  to  note  that  this  match  was  highly  considered 


212  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

gotiators  with  Bernabo  was  made  March  18, 
1379,  Michael  de  la  Pole,  Sir  John  Burley,  and 
Dr.  John  Sheppey  being  named.11  Of  more  im- 
portance are  the  negotiations  which  resulted 
in  the  marriage  of  Richard  and  Anne  of  Bohemia 
in  1382.  I  shall  therefore  undertake  to  pre- 
sent them  in  some  detail,  and  emphasize  some 
elements  that  have  not  hitherto  been  noted. 

To  understand  the  negotiations  between  Eng- 
land and  Bohemia  we  must  keep  in  mind  the 
important  relations  of  the  papal  schism.  That 
rupture  not  only  made  a  new  alignment  of  the 
nations  in  spiritual  affairs,  but  separated,  for 
the  first  time  in  many  years,  the  traditional 
allies  Bohemia  and  France.  We  need  but 
remember  that  John  of  Luxemburg,  the  blind 
king  of  Bohemia,  had  fought  and  given  his  life 
as  an  ally  of  France  at  Crecy  in  1346.  It  is 
no  less  significant  of  the  strange  changes  which 
time  brings  that  the  Black  Prince,  father  of  the 
Richard  who  was  soon  to  marry  the  granddaugh- 
ter of  that  same  blind  king,  won  his  first  vie- 


by  some,  at  least.  The  Chronicon  Anglice  (Rolls  Series 
64,  331),  speaking  of  the  marriage  of  Anne,  says:  "Hanc 
igitur  magno  pretio,  multisque  coemptam  laboribus,  haben- 
dam  rex  prseelegerat,  quamquam  cum  ina)stimabili  auri  sum- 
ma  oblata f uisset  et  filia  domini  Mediolanensis  Barnabonis." 
Perhaps  the  hostility  of  the  writer  to  John  of  Gaunt  may 
have  had  something  to  do  with  his  apparent  disapprobation 
of  the  marriage  with  Anne,  perhaps  only  his  belief  that  a 
bad  bargain  had  been  made. 
11  Rymer's  F'.tdera,  vii,  213. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       213 

tory  at  Crecy,  and  there,  is  sometimes  said  to 
have  adopted  the  insignia  of  the  dead  Bohemian 
monarch,  the  three  black  ostrich  plumes  and 
the  motto  'ich  dien.'  Charles  IV  of  Bohemia, 
John's  son,  and  father  of  Anne,  continued  the 
French  alliance.  Yet  he  was  fully  in  sympathy 
with  the  election  of  Urban  VI  as  pope,  and  there 
is  little  probability  that  he  would  have  changed 
his  allegiance,  had  he  lived  to  consider  the  claims 
of  the  schismatic  pope.  He  died  two  months 
and  nine  days  after  the  election  of  Clement,  or 
Nov.  29,  1378. 

Before  Charles  Fourth's  death,  or  on  Nov.  5, 
1378,  Clement  had  sent  to  the  Bohemian  court 
Bishop  John  of  Cambray,12  but  early  in  the  fol- 
lowing year  Urban  despatched,  as  papal  nuncio, 
his  efficient  legate  Pileus  de  Prata,  cardinal  of 
Ravenna.13  Pileus  reached  the  court  of  Wen- 
ceslaus  in  March,  1379,  and  urged  him  to  hold 
with  Urban,  as  Ludwig  of  Hungary  was  doing. 
He  emphasized,  as  an  effective  argument  with 
the  young  emperor  then  only  eighteen,  that  to 
support  Clement  would  make  a  heretic  of  Wen- 
ceslaus's  father,  only  a  few  months  dead.14 
For  this  and  other  reasons  Wenceslaus  remained 
firm,  and  even  vigorously   supported  Urban. 


12  Lindner,  Geschichte  des  deutschen  Reiches  unter  Konig 
Wenzel,  i,  102,  footnote. 

18  Lindner,  i,  94. 

14  Hofler,  Anna  von  Luxemburg,  Denkschriften  d.  Wiener 
Akad.,  Phil, -Hist.  Classe,  xx,  130.     Lindner,  i,  113. 


214  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

In  connection  with  this  support,  he  wrote  a  let- 
ter to  Richard  II  of  England,  as  early  as  May 
20, 1379,  suggesting  an  alliance  against  the  schis- 
matic Clement.15  Curiously  enough,  at  this 
very  time  English  commissioners  might  have 
been  at  the  court  of  Wenceslaus,  perhaps  to 
discuss  the  question  of  a  marriage  between 
Richard  and  Anne.  Six  days  after  the  com- 
missioners had  been  appointed  to  visit  Bernabo 
Visconti,  or  on  March  24,  1379,  two  of  them, 
Michael  de  la  Pole  and  Gerard  de  Lisle,  were 
granted  letters  of  safe  conduct  as  about  to  go 
to  the  Roman  court  (versus  Curiam  Romanam)  .16 
From  Rome,  perhaps  at  the  suggestion  of  the 
pope,  they  went  to  Germany,  where  they  were 
unfortunately  imprisoned,  to  be  released  only 
after  another  commission  had  been  sent  from 
England  with  a  ransom.17  But  for  this,  the 
negotiations  for  a  marriage  of  Richard  and  Anne 
might  possibly  have  been  hastened.18 

15  Hofler,  127.  Lindner,  i,  95,  gives  a  rhetorical  extract 
from  this  letter,  in  which  Wenceslaus  professes  that  he  is 
willing  to  shed  his  blood  for  the  church. 

in  Rymer,  new  ed.  iv,  60. 

17  Rymer,  vii,  232;  this  commission  is  dated  Jan.  20,  1380. 

18  I  say  possibly,  because  the  question  as  to  whether 
these  commissioners  were  to  propose  such  a  marriage  rests 
upon  the  interpretation  of  a  record  in  the  Issues  of  the  Ex- 
chequer (Devon,  p.  224)  of  Jan.  9,  1384:  "To  Sir  Michael 
de  la  Pole,  Chancellor  of  England,  lately  sent  from  England 
to  Milan,  and  from  thence  to  the  court  of  Rome  to  the  King 
of  the  Romans  and  Bohemia  as  a  King's  messenger,  to  enter 
into  a   treaty   for  marriage   to  be  had  between  the  said 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       215 

In  this  letter  of  Wenceslaus  to  Richard  there 
was  no  mention  of  binding  the  alliance  by  a 
royal  marriage.  On  the  side  of  Wenceslaus,  it 
was  perhaps  not  thought  of  at  this  time.  On 
the  part  of  Richard's  councilors,  the  idea  of  a 
peace  with  France,  cemented  by  the  marriage 
of  Richard  with  a  French  princess,  was  still  in 
mind.  The  latter  is  certainly  shown  by  the 
appointment,  on  Sept.  26,  1379,  of  ambassadors 
to  treat  with  "those  of  France"  (cum  illis  de 


Lord  the  King  and  Anne  Queen  of  England,  taken  prisoner 
in  those  parts  under  the  safe  conduct  of  the  same  King  of 
the  Romans,  upon  [his]  return  from  the  parts  aforesaid." 
If  this  record  is  correct,  the  marriage  of  Richard  and 
Anne  was  proposed  somewhat  earlier  than  has  usually 
been  supposed.  The  Exchequer  record  is  followed  by 
the  writer  of  the  article  on  Pole  in  the  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography,  which,  however,  is  certainly  wrong 
in  some  of  its  statements,  as  pointed  out  by  C.  G. 
Chamberlayne  in  Die  Heirat  Richards  II  von  England 
mit  Anna  von  Luxemburg  (Halle,  1906).  On  the  other  hand 
the  latter  assumes  that  'Curiam  Romanam'  above  means 
the  court  of  Wenceslaus,  though  admitting  that  its  usual 
meaning  is  the  papal  court.  This  seems  to  me  wholly 
untenable.  Indeed,  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  marriage  nego- 
tiations with  Bohemia  were  seriously  considered  in  England 
during  the  winter  of  1379-80.  Twice  while  Pole  was  abroad 
(see  above),  commissions  were  appointed  to  treat  with 
France  and  arrange  for  a  marriage  with  a  French  princess. 
Perhaps,  as  the  Exchequer  entry  is  of  Jan.  9,  1384,  nearly 
two  years  after  the  marriage  of  Richard  and  Anne,  Pole's 
later  connection  with  the  marriage  arrangements  was  con- 
fused with  this  earlier  mission  to  Italy  and  Rome.  In  any 
case,  negotiations  with  Bohemia  were  taken  up  anew  in 
June,  1380. 


216  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

Francia).19  The  extent  of  the  powers  granted 
may  be  inferred  from  these  words: 

Et  ensement  de  Tretir,  Ordenir,  et  Accorder  oves- 
que  nostre  dit  Adversaire,  ou  sez  Procureres,  sur  Al- 
liances, Confederacies,  et  Amities,  soit  il  par  Mariage 
et  Contracte  de  Matrimoigne  de  nostre  Persone  de 
mesme,  ou  par  autre  voie  quelque  soit,  en  general, 
ou  en  especiale,  come  vous  semblera  bon. 

Again  on  April  1,  1380,  other  ambassadors 
were  appointed  "De  Tractando  cum  Adversario 
Francice,"20  with  powers  expressed  in  practically 
the  same  words.  On  the  same  day  also,  safe 
conduct  was  granted  ambassadors  of  France  to 
enter  the  English  possessions  and  consider  such 
treaty  and  marriage. 

For  some  reason  the  negotiations  were  fruit- 
less, as  they  had  been  so  many  times  before. 
Possibly  they  were  not  carried  out  in  entire 
good  faith,  for,  on  the  first  of  March,  1380,  an 
offensive  and  defensive  alliance  was  entered  into 
with  Brittany.21  Perhaps  the  explanation  of 
the  failure  was  in  the  influence  of  John  of  Gaunt 
and  his  anger  against  the  alliance  of  France  and 
Spain.22    At  least,  on  the  twenty-third  of  May, 

19  Rymer,  vii,  229. 

20  Rymee,  vii,  248. 

21  Rymer,  vii,  236.  " Liga  Offensiva  et  Defensiva,  conclusa 
per  quattuor  Commissarios  Regis  et  Septem  Com,missarios 
Ducis  Britannioe." 

22  Cf .  C.  Oman,  Political  History  of  England,  iv,  19.  Such 
influence  of  the  Duke  of  Lancaster  might  also  explain  the 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHTS  TALE       217 

power  was  given  by  the  king  to  treat  with  the 
king  and  queen  of  Portugal,23  and  on  the  fifth 
day  of  July  a  treaty  with  them  was  made.24 
On  the  first  of  June,  provision  was  made  for 
invading  France  under  the  command  of  Thomas, 
Earl  of  Buckingham.25  On  June  24  the  king 
sent  to  every  bishop  of  England  a  recital  of  the 
treachery  and  bad  faith  of  the  French  king  in 
negotiating,  the  purpose  to  proceed  with  the  war, 
and  a  request  for  the  prayers  of  the  clergy  for 
the  success  of  the  expedition.26  With  such  prep- 
arations the  Earl  of  Buckingham  set  out,  and 
from  July  20  to  October  marched  quite  around 
Paris,  finally  reaching  Rennes  in  Brittany. 
That  his  expedition  was  of  little  avail  to  Eng- 
land does  not  concern  us  here.27  Under  such 
circumstances,  either  peace  with  France,  or 
marriage  with  a  French  princess,  was  equally 
impossible.  Nor  did  Richard  again  consider 
such  an  alliance  with  his  long-time  enemy  until 
1396,  when  Anne  had  been  in  her  grave  more 
than  two  years. 
It  was  when  these  efforts  at  peace  with  France 

apparent  preference  of  the  anti-Lancastrian  chronicler  of 
the  Chronicon  Anglice  for  the  marriage  with  the  daughter  of 
Bernab6  Visconti.    See  footnote  10. 

23  Rymer,  vii,  253. 

24  Rymer,  vii,  262f . 

25  Rymer,  vii,  256. 

26  Rymer,  vii,  260. 

27  Froissart,  Chronicles,  ii,  ch.  50f;   Johnes,  i,  604;  and 
Oman,  Pol.  Hist,  of  Eng.,  iv,  19-20. 


218  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

were  a  failure  that  an  opportunity  presented 
itself  for  a  royal  marriage  and  alliance  with  the 
house  then  representing  all  that  was  left  of  the 
empire  of  the  Romans.  The  suggestion  doubt- 
less came  from  abroad.  We  have  already  noted 
that  Wenceslaus  had  written  to  Richard  in  May, 
1379, 28  suggesting  an  alliance  against  schismat- 
ics. That  letter  was  doubtless  inspired  by 
Cardinal  Pileus,  the  papal  nuncio  to  Bohemia, 
who  was  doing  all  in  his  power  to  bring  the  na- 
tions to  the  support  of  Urban.29  Before  another 
year  had  passed,  through  his  efforts,  all  Ger- 
many, except  the  Duke  of  Brabant  and  the 
cities  of  Metz  and  Mainz,  had  bound  themselves 
to  the  support  of  the  Roman  pope.30  To  further 
the  same  cause  Cardinal  Pileus  went  to  England 
in  the  spring  or  early  summer  of  1380.  This 
we  know  first  of  all  from  Froissart.     He  says: 

The  Cardinal  of  Ravenna  was  at  that  time  [the 
summer  of  1380]  in  England  and,  being  an  Urbanist, 
was  converting  the  English  to  the  same  way  of  think- 
ing.31 

Froissart  was  not  wholly  right  that  the  cardinal 
of  Ravenna  was,  at  just  this  time,  "converting 

28  See  p.  214. 

29  Lindner,  i,  94. 

30  Lindner,  i,  105:  "Schon  ehe  der  Reichstag  zusammen 
trat,  konnte  Pileus  an  Urban  gutes  Bericht  senden.  Ganz 
Deutschland  bis  auf  drei,  .  .  hangen  dem  wahren  Papste 


an." 


31  Chronicles,  ii,  ch.  50;  Jobnes,  i,  606. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       219 

the  English,"  for  Urban  had  been  fully  accepted 
at  the  parliament  of  Gloucester  (Oct.  20  to  Nov. 
16,  1378)  when  legates  from  both  popes  pressed 
their  rival  claims.  But  there  is  other  evidence 
that  Pileus  de  Prata,  the  Ravennese  cardinal, 
had  come  to  England  in  the  year  1380.  On 
June  7  Richard  granted  to  the  cardinal  certain 
rights  in  offices  connected  with  Lichfield  and 
Lincoln  cathedrals,  "on  account  of  the  good 
affection  which  we  have  for  the  person  of  the 
reverend  father  in  Christ,  the  cardinal  of  Ra- 
venna, and  for  the  good  will  and  wish  which  he 
has  shown  us  and  our  kingdom  beforetime,  and 
is  showing  at  present."32 

It  was  doubtless  Cardinal  Pileus  of  Ravenna 
who,  to  strengthen  the  cause  of  Urban,  first 
suggested  to  the  English,  or  at  least  now  urged 
upon  them,  an  alliance  of  their  country  with  Bo- 
hemia and  the  marriage  of  Richard  with  a  Ger- 
man princess.  This  becomes  more  evident,  as 
we  see  the  full  relations  of  the  marriage  to  the 
politics  of  the  papal  schism.  Pope  Urban,  as 
we  have  seen,  had  secured  the  allegiance  of 
Wenceslaus.  But  Clement  still  hoped  to  bring 
him  over  to  his  side,  or  at  least  weaken  his  sup- 
port of  Urban,  by  persuading  him  to  continue 
the  long-existing  alliance  with  France.     This 

82  Pro  bona  Affectione,  quam  erga  Personam,  Reverendi  in 
Christo  Patris,  Cardinalis  de  Ravenna  habemus,  et  pro  bona 
Voluntate  et  Delectione,  quas  ipse  Nobis  et  Regno  nostro 
hactenus  monstravit,  et  indies  monstrat."    Rymer,  vii,  256. 


220  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

last  he  hoped  to  accomplish  by  the  marriage 
of  Anne  of  Bohemia,  sister  of  Wenceslaus,  and 
the  son  of  Charles  V  of  France,  who  was  soon 
to  become  Charles  VI.  There  had  even  been 
talk  of  this  marriage  of  Anne  and  the  Dauphin 
during  a  visit  of  Wenceslaus  to  Aix-la-Chap- 
elle.33  This  visit  was  made  after  the  diet  of 
Frankfort  in  April,  1380. 34  Besides,  the  saga- 
cious Charles  V  of  France  did  not  take  kindly 
to  the  severing  of  relations  with  Germany, 
likely  to  result  from  the  papal  schism.     Even 

33  Valois  says,  in  La  France  et  le  grand  schisme  d'occident, 
i,  300:  "Durant  un  sejour  de  Wenceslas  a  Aix-la-Chapelle, 
on  avait  parle  d'un  mariage  entre  le  dauphin,  fils  du  roi  de 
France,  et  Anne  de  Luxembourg,  soeur  du  roi  des  Romains. 
Une  entrevue  devait  avoir  lieu  entre  Charles  V  et  Wen- 
ceslas. ...  La  cour  d' Avignon  comptait  beaucoup  sur 
le  r6sultat  de  cette  conference.  Entre  autres  personnages 
qui  promettaient  de  s'y  rendre,  je  citerai  les  envoy6s  du  roi 
de  Portugal  et,  a  leur  tete,  l'eveque  de  Lisbonne,  qui  deja 
preparait  le  discours  avec  lequel  il  devait  convertir  Wen- 
ceslas. Cette  entrevue  n'eut  pas  lieu:  le  roi  des  Romains, 
tournant  le  dos  a  Reims,  reprit  la  route  de  Cologne.  II 
se  fit,  il  est  vrai,  reprcsenter  a  Paris  par  quatre  ambassadeurs, 
mais  l'acte,  sans  doute  r6dig6  d'avance,  dont  ces  derniers 
6taient  porteurs  ne  traitait  que  du  renouvellement  des 
alliances  entre  les  deux  maisons,  sans  souffler  mot  de  ma- 
riage du  dauphin  avec  la  bohemienne  Anne."  I  am  indebted, 
for  pointing  this  out,  to  my  friend  Professor  G.  L.  Burr  of 
Cornell  University.  As  authorities  for  this  statement 
Valois  cites,  Lettre  du  cardinal  de  Viviers  aux  cardinaux  de 
Florence  et  de  Milan,  Baluzius,  ii,  869;  and  his  own  edition 
of  the  Discours  prononce"  le  14  juillet  1880,  en  presence  de 
Charles  V.  par  Martin  I'tveque  de  Lisbonne,  in  the  Biblio- 
thhque  de  Vtlcole  des  Charles,  Hi,  495,  500. 

■'•  Li  .-i.nkk,  i,  111,  116,  430. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       221 

on  his  death-bed,  in  the  early  autumn  of  1380, 
he  said  to  his  courtiers: 

Seek  out  in  Germany  an  alliance  for  my  son  that 
our  connections  there  may  be  strengthened.  You 
have  heard  that  our  adversary  is  about  to  marry 
from  thence  to  increase  his  allies.35 

Such  a  marriage  with  Anne  of  Bohemia  was 
also  urged  when  Charles  VI  had  come  to  the 
throne.  The  Clementists  saw  in  it  their  only 
hope  of  winning  Wenceslaus  and  Germany.36 
This  is  fully  implied  in  a  letter  of  Cardinal  Peter 
de   Sortenac,   quoted   by   Hofler.     He  writes: 

Nee  est  spes  eum  [Wenceslaus]  pro  nunc  revocandi 
nisi  per  tractatum  matrimonii,  qui  pendet  de  sorore 
sua  danda  regi  Francie,  in  qua  tractatu  speratur, 
quod  possit  informari  de  justitia  domini  nostri  et 
de  prseservatione  fame  et  honoris  patris  sui  mortui 
et  per  consequens  reduci.37 

We  have  also  the  testimony  of  the  English 
chronicler  Adam  of  Usk.     Speaking  of  the  Car- 

35  Chronicles,  ii,  ch.  55;  Johnes,  i,  616.  Charles  V.  died 
Sept.  16,  1380,  and  the  passage  shows  that  Richard's  idea  of 
a  marriage  with  a  German  princess  was  known  in  France  at 
this  time. 

36  Lindner,  i,  113:  "Die  einzige  Hoffnung,  Wenzelzur 
Umkehr  zu  bewegen,  lage  in  jetz  schwebenden  Verhand- 
lungen  uber  die  Ehe  zwischen  seiner  Schwester  und  dem 
Konige  von  Frankreich." 

37  Hofler,  130,  footnote:  from  Baluzius,  Vitce  Paparum 
Avinionensium,  ii,  869.  The  last  clause  refers  to  the  fear  of 
Wenceslaus  that,  to  recognize  Clement,  would  make  a  here- 
tic of  his  dead  father;  see  p.  213. 


222  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

dinal  of  Ravenna,  whose  notary  he  was  while 
the  former  was  in  London,  Adam  says : 

And  after  his  departure,  the  said  Lady  Anne  was 
bought  for  a  price  by  our  lord  the  king,  for  she  was 
much  sought  in  marriage  by  the  king  of  France.88 

The  attempt  of  Clement  to  draw  Bohemia 
and  France  together  through  the  marriage  of 
Anne  perhaps  accounts  for  the  renewed  efforts 
of  Urban  to  prevent  that  alliance.  Thus, 
doubtless,  Cardinal  Pileus  came  to  England 
to  urge  the  league  between  Bohemia  and  Eng- 
land, France's  enemy,  perhaps  also  a  marriage 
of  Richard  II  with  a  German  princess.  Nor 
was  such  a  suggestion  of  Pileus  de  Prata  likely 
to  be  without  great  weight.  Made  bishop  of 
Ravenna  in  1370,  he  had  long  been  engaged,  as 
representative  of  the  pope,  in  trying  to  bring 
peace  between  England  and  France.  In  con- 
nection with  this  duty  he  was  given  letters  of 
safe  conduct  by  Edward  III  as  early  as  June  8, 
1374.39  He  was  papal  legate  at  Bruges  in  the 
negotiations  between  England  and  France  in 

38  Chronicon  Ados  de  Usk,  ed.  by  Thompson,  p.  102-3. 
The  original  reads:  "Post  ejus  recessum,  dicta  domina 
Anna,  per  dominum  regem  magno  precio  redempta,  quia 
a  rege  Francie  in  uxorem  affectata," — p.  2-3.  One  cannot 
fail  to  notice  that  this  rivalry  of  the  king  of  France  for  the 
nand  of  Anna  of  Bohemia  has  direct  relations  to  the 
interpretation  of  the  Parlemenl  of  Foules.  With  that  I 
have  dealt  in  un  article,  "The  Suitors  in  Chaucer's  Parle- 
ment  of  Foules",   Modern  Philology,  viii,  45. 

»»Rtmeb,  vii,  39. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       223 

1375,  and  he  appears  frequently  thereafter  in 
English  records.40  Coming  at  this  time  as 
representative  of  both  the  pope  and  the  em- 
peror, it  is  not  strange  that  he  should  have 
been  readily  heard  by  Richard's  council. 

The  suggestion  of  an  alliance  between  Eng- 
land and  Bohemia  together  with  a  royal  mar- 
riage, was  immediately  taken  up,  it  would  seem. 
In  this  ready  response  the  councilors  of  Richard 
were  doubtless  influenced  by  two  motives.  They 
desired  a  queen  for  their  young  king,  and  they 
strongly  hoped  to  gain  assistance  against  their 
old  adversary,  France.  Besides,  France  and 
Spain  had  joined  in  a  newly-formed  league 
against  the  claims  of  John  of  Gaunt  to  the  Span- 
ish throne,  and  this  added  a  new  reason  for 
desiring  aid  from  abroad.  As  a  result,  on  June 
12,  1380,  commissioners  were  appointed  to 
treat  for  a  marriage  of  Richard  with  Katherine, 
daughter  of  Ludwig,  "recently  emperor  of  the 
Romans."41 

40  Rymer,  vii,  51,  53,  56,  58,  61,  68,  etc. 

41  Rtmer,  vii,  257:  "  De  Tractando  super  Matrimonio 
inter  Regem  et  Filiam  Ludovici,  nuper  Imperatoris."  In  the 
commission  the  daughter  is  called  "Dominam  Katerinam 
Filiam,  Celebris  memorise,  Ludowici,  nuper  Romanorum 
Imperatoris."  The  commissioners  were  accredited,  how- 
ever, "tarn  Serenissimi  Principis  Domini  Wensalai  Roma- 
norum et  Bohemias  Regis,  Fratris  nostri  carissimi,  quam 
ejusdem  Dominse  Katerinae  et  Amicorum  suorum."  This 
first  choice  of  a  German  bride  for  the  boy  king  seems  peculiar 
to  say  the  least.  The  only  Ludwig  "recently  emperor  of 
the  Romans"  was  Ludwig  of  Bavaria,  who  had  died  in  1347. 


224  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

The  commissioners  were  Sir  Simon  Burley, 
Sir  Richard  Braybrook,  and  Bernard  Van  Sed- 
les,  the  first  of  whom  had  been  appointed  on  the 
same  day  tutor  to  the  king,  then  two  months 
more  than  fourteen  years  old;  that  is,  if  born 
April  13,  1366,  or  a  little  more  than  thirteen  if 
born  January  6,  or  February  26,  1367. 

It  was  in  connection  with  this  appointment 
that  Froissart  says : 

Sir  Simon  Burley,  a  sage  and  valiant  knight,  who 
had  been  the  king's  tutor  and  much  beloved  by  the 
prince  his  father,  was  nominated  to  go  to  Germany, 
to  treat  of  this  marriage,  as  a  wise  and  able  negotia- 
tor.42 Every  necessary  preparation  was  ordered,  as 
well  for  his  expenses  as  otherwise.  He  set  out  from 
England  magnificently  equipped  and  arrived  at 
Calais;  from  thence  he  went  toGravelines  and  con- 
tinued his  journey  until  he  came  to  Brussels,  where 
he  met  Duke  Wenceslaus  of  Brabant,  the  Duke  Al- 

His  daughter,  therefore,  could  not  have  been  less  than  twice 
as  old  as  Richard.  But  perhaps,  at  the  beginning  of  these 
negotiations  with  a  far-away  country,  a  mistake  was  made, 
and  Anne,  daughter  of  Charles  IV,  king  of  Bohemia  and  em- 
peror of  the  Romans  until  his  death  in  1378  was  from  the 
first  intended.  At  least  the  choice  was  soon  changed,  and 
the  negotiations  for  the  hand  of  Anne  begun.  Chamber- 
layne  (p.  34)  assumes  a  scribal  error. 

42  Chronicles,  ii,  ch.  xliii;  translation  of  Johnes,  i,  593. 
Froissart's  previous  paragraph  speaks  of  the  "sister  of  the 
king  of  Bohemia  and  Germany,"  and  just  before  mentions 
the  death  of  Charles  IV  of  Bohemia,  which  occurred  Nov. 
29,  1378.  From  this  he  runs  on  to  the  later  years,  as  every- 
thing else  shows  this  to  have  been  the  first  mission  of 
Burley. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       225 

bert,  the  Count  de  Blois,  the  Count  de  St.  Pol,  Sir 
William  de  Maulny,  and  numbers  of  knights  from 
Brabant,  Hainault,  and  other  parts,  partaking  of  a 
great  feast  of  tilts  and  tournaments;  and  it  was  on 
this  occasion  all  these  lords  were  there  assembled. 
The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Brabant,  from  the  love 
they  bore  the  king  of  England,  received  his  knight 
most  courteously.  They  were  much  rejoiced  on 
hearing  the  cause  of  his  journey  into  Germany,  and 
said  it  would  be  a  good  match  between  the  king  of 
England  and  their  niece.43  They  gave  to  Sir  Simon 
Burley,  on  his  departure,  special  letters  to  the  em- 
peror, to  assure  him  they  approved  very  much  of 
this  marriage.  The  knight  set  out  from  Brussels, 
and  took  the  road  through  Louvain  to  Cologne. 

There  is  also  further  evidence  in  Froissart 
that  the  negotiations  proceeded  rapidly  in  the 
summer  of  1380.  In  speaking  of  the  invasion 
of  France  by  the  Earl  of  Buckingham,  who  left 
Calais  on  July  20,  he  says  :44 

The  English  passed  Terouenne  without  attempt- 
ing anything,  for  the  lords  de  Saimpi  and  de  Fran- 
sures  were  within  it.  They  marched  on  towards 
Bethune,  where  they  halted  for  a  day;  and  I  will  tell 
you  the  reason.  You  have  heard  how  King  Richard, 
by  the  advice  of  his  uncles  and  council,  had  sent  into 

43  This  would  be  Anne,  not  Katherine  daughter  of  Lud- 
wig  of  Bavaria.  Froissart  seems  not  to  have  known  of  the 
proposal  for  Katherine,  or  more  likely,  if  a  Katherine  were 
ever  really  considered,  the  change  to  Anne  had  already  been 
made. 

44  Chronicles,  ii;  ch.  50;  Johnes,  i,  606. 


226  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

Germany  Sir  Simon  Burley  to  the  emperor,  to  de- 
mand his  sister  in  marriage.  This  knight  so  well 
managed  the  business  that  the  emperor,  by  the 
advice  of  his  council  and  the  great  lords  of  his  court, 
complied  with  the  request,  but  he  had  sent  with 
Sir  Simon  Burley  the  Duke  of  Saxony,  first  to  Lux- 
emburg and  then  to  England,  to  observe  that  king- 
dom, in  order  that  his  sister  might  have  a  just  account 
of  it,  so  that,  if  agreeable,  the  marriage  might  be 
concluded. 

The  Cardinal  of  Ravenna  was  at  that  time  in 
England  and,  being  an  Urbanist,  was  converting  the 
English  to  the  same  way  of  thinking;  he  was  waiting 
also  the  arrival  of  the  above-mentioned  duke.  At 
the  entreaties  of  the  emperor  and  the  Duke  of  Bra- 
bant, he  and  all  his  company  obtained  liberty  to 
pass  through  France  to  Calais.  They  therefore 
travelled  by  way  of  Tournay,  Lille,  and  Bethune, 
from  whence  they  came  to  visit  the  Earl  of  Buck- 
ingham and  his  barons,  who  received  the  Duke  of 
Saxony  and  his  suite  honourably.  The  Germans 
continued  their  journey  through  Aire  and  St.  Omer, 
and  from  thence  to  Calais. 

This  very  explicit  statement  makes  clear  that 
Sir  Simon  Burley  was  on  his  way  back  from  Bo- 
hemia, with  the  Duke  of  Tetschen,  or  Saxony, 
by  the  latter  part  of  July  or  the  first  of  August, 
1380,  when  the  Earl  of  Buckingham  was  as  yet 
only  a  little  distance  from  Calais.  There  is  also 
in  one  manuscript  of  Froissart  further  record 
regarding  this  visit  of  the  Duke  of  Tetschen. 
It  reads:45 

**  Chronicles,  ii,  at  close  of  ch.  58;  Johnes,  i,  622. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       227 

You  have  heard  how  Sir  Simon  Burley,  that  gal- 
lant knight,  attached  to  the  household  of  King  Rich- 
ard of  England,  had  been  sent  with  proposals  to  the 
emperor  in  Germany  respecting  the  marriage  of  the 
Lady  Anne,  his  sister,  with  the  king  of  England. 
He  had  transacted  the  business  with  ability,  so  that 
the  emperor  and  his  council  consented;  but  he  had 
brought  with  him,  on  his  return,  the  Duke  of  Sax- 
ony, one  of  the  council  of  the  emperor,  for  him  to 
observe  the  state  of  England,  and  to  make  inquiries 
concerning  the  dower,  and  how  it  was  to  be  settled 
on  the  queen.     .     .     . 

The  Duke  of  Saxony  was  much  pleased  with  what 
he  saw  and  heard,  particularly  respecting  the  dower; 
he  was  well  satisfied  with  the  king  and  his  two  un- 
cles of  Lancaster  and  Cambridge,  for  the  other  was 
in  France,  and  also  with  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  the 
Earl  of  Warwick,  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  and 
the  other  lords  about  the  person  of  the  king.  When 
the  duke  had  remained  some  time  in  England,  and 
finished  the  business  he  had  come  upon,  he  took  leave 
of  the  king,  promising  to  persevere  in  the  marriage 
to  the  conclusion.  At  his  departure,  he  received 
handsome  presents  of  jewels  for  himself,  for  those 
attendant  on  the  person  of  the  emperor,  and  also  for 
the  ladies  who  had  the  management  of  the  young 
lady,  Anne  of  Bohemia,  the  intended  future  queen  of 
England.  The  duke  returned,  well  pleased,  to  his 
own  country;  but  this  business  was  not  immediately 
concluded,  for  the  damsel  was  young,  and  the  coun- 
cils of  each  party  had  many  things  to  arrange;  add  to 
this,  there  shortly  happened  in  England  great  misery 
and  great  tribulation,  as  you  will  hear  recounted  in 
this  history. 


228  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

In  this  passage  the  words  "for  the  other  was 
in  France,"  following  the  mention  of  "his  two 
uncles  of  Lancaster  and  Cambridge,"  refer  to 
Thomas,  Earl  of  Buckingham,  whom  the  Duke 
of  Tetschen  had  already  met  on  the  Continent; 
see  the  preceding  quotation.  But  there  is  here 
still  further  proof  that  this  visit  of  the  Duke  of 
Tetschen  was  in  1380  and  not  the  next  year,  for 
in  June,  1381,  the  Duke  of  Cambridge  was  sent 
to  Portugal.46  He  therefore  could  not  have 
met  the  Bohemian  ambassador  in  the  summer 
of  that  year,  and  the  visit  of  the  Duke  of  Tet- 
schen must  have  been  in  the  preceding  summer, 
as  indicated  by  the  other  facts. 

But  there  is  further  evidence  that  the  nego- 
tiations for  the  Bohemian  alliance  were  far 
advanced  in  the  year  1380.  On  Dec.  12  of 
that  year,  another  commission  was  appointed 
to  treat  of  the  marriage.47  That  this  commis- 
sion refers  to  the  time  after  the  first  visit  of  the 
Duke  of  Tetschen  is  clear  from  the  following 
words : 

Unde,  cum,  post  aliquos  Tractatus  super  hoc  hab- 
itos,  Nobiles  et  Illustres  Viri,  Domini,  Przimislaus 

40  The  orders  for  the  impressment  of  ships  for  the  Earl 
of  Cambridge  are  dated  May  12,  1380,  in  Rymer  (vii,  305),  as 
noted  by  Armitage-Smith  in  his  John  of  Gaunt,  263,  footnote. 

47  De  Polestate  contrahendi  Sponsalia  et  Matrimonium  cum 
Sorore  Regis  Romanorum,  Rymer,  vii,  305.  This  document 
occurs,  not  in  its  chronological  place  in  the  Foedera,  but 
among  the  documents  dated  in  May,  1381,  when  the  articles 
of  agreement  were  finally  signed  in  London. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       229 

Dux  Teschinensis,  Conradus  Creyer  Magister  Curiae, 
et  Petrus  de  Wartberg  Magister  Cameras  ipsius  Se- 
renissimiFratris  nostri,  ad  nostram  Prsesentiam  Lon- 
dinise  declinarent,  de  dicta  Parentele  contrahenda,  ac 
de  certis  aliis  Ligarum,  Amicitiarum,  seu  Confcede- 
rationem  Articulis  extitit  ibidem  mutuo  Concorda- 
tum. 

With  the  exception  of  Walter  Skirlawe,  who 
was  also  named  commissioner,  those  appointed 
at  this  time  were  the  same  as  on  June  12.  It 
seems  but  an  extension  of  the  powers  originally 
granted,  though  after  the  Duke  of  Tetschen  had 
spied  out  the  land.  The  change  of  name  from 
Katherine,  daughter  of  Ludwig,  to  Anne,  sister 
of  the  emperor,  had  also  been  made. 

These  later  negotiations  were  so  far  success- 
ful that  it  was  decided  to  continue  them  in 
Flanders,  the  commissioners  to  assemble  on  the 
feast  of  the  Epiphany   (Jan.  6).48     Somewhat 

48  This  paper  was  headed  De  Tractando  super  Matrimonio 
inter  Reg  em  et  Annam  Sororem  Impcratoris,  Rymer,  vii,  280. 
In  it  occur  these  words:  "Unde,  cum,  post  aliquos  Trac- 
tatus,  super  hoc  habitos,  pro  Negotii  hujusmodi  Conclu- 
sione,  qusedam  Diseta  in  Flandria  fuerit  assignata,  pro  cujus 
observatione  Ambassatores  solempnes,  tarn  pro  parte  ipsius 
Dominse  Annse,  et  Amicorum  suorum,  quam  nostra,  debe- 
bant,  juxta  Conducta  ibidem,  in  Feste  Epiphanise  Domini 
proximo  convenire."  This  document  says  Anne  was  cho- 
sen "nedum  propter  ipsius  Nobilitatem,  set  [sic]  propter 
Famam  celebrem  bonitatis  ipsius."  Gairdner  (Did. 
Nat.  Biog.,  Anne)  is  unkind  enough  to  suggest  that  this  may 
have  been  because  of  Anne's  probable  lack  of  beauty,  but 
the  language  of  a  serious  state  document  surely  does  not 
justify  this  interpretation. 


230  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

greater  power  was  now  given  for  the  settling  of 
the  details  of  the  marriage  contract,  and  for 
this  purpose  Thomas,  Duke  of  Kent,  Hugo 
Segrave,  and  the  indefatigable  Sir  Simon  Bur- 
ley  were  appointed.  This  latter  paper  was 
dated  the  twenty-sixth  of  December,  and  on 
Jan.  12  safe  conduct  was  granted  to  the  com- 
missioners of  Anne  to  come  to  Calais.49 

The  negotiations  now  proceeded  rapidly.  On 
Jan.  23  Anne  appointed  the  Duke  of  Tetschen, 
Conrad  Kreyger,  and  Peter  de  Wartberg  to  act 
for  her.50  On  the  last  day  of  January  Eliza- 
beth, mother  of  Anne,  named  the  same  ambas- 
sadors to  consent  on  her  part,  and  on  the  first 
of  February  Wenceslaus,  king  of  Bohemia  and 
Roman  emperor,  gave  them  authority  to  make 
an  alliance  with  England.51  The  decree  of 
Wenceslaus  gives, 

Potestatem  Tractandi,  Contrahendi,  Iniendi,  Fac- 
iendi  et  Consummandi,  pro  Nobis  et  hseredibus  nos- 
tris  Boemise  Regibus,  Amicitias,  Uniones,  et  Ligas 

49  The  later  date  than  that  first  mentioned  would  seem  to 
imply  that  the  commissioners  did  not  meet  as  early  as  in- 
tended, but  such  delay  may  be  explained  by  many  another 
similar  one  of  the  time. 

50  Rymer,  vii,  282:  " Liter a  Procuratoria  Annce  Filice 
Caroli  Imperatoris  et  Regis  Boemice,  ad  Tractandum  de  Ma- 
trimonio  contrahendi);"  it  is  dated  "x  kalend.  Februarii." 

61  Rymeb,  vii,  283:  "Commissio  Imperatoris  ad  Trac- 
tandum de  Amiciliis  et  de  Liga  contra  Scismaticos."  It  was 
dated  at  Nuremberg,  and  it  may  be  seen  to  be  carefully 
guarded  from  any  other  intent  than  the  support  of  the  pope 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       231 

Fraternales,  et  etiam  Colligantias,  Statum  et  Ho 
norem  Sacrosanctse  Romanse  Ecclesiee,  et  Sanctissimi 
in  Christo  Patris  et  Domini,  Domini  Urbani  Papse 
Sexti,  concernentes  ad  Exterminium  Scismaticorum 
nunc  Vigentium  et  Rebellium,  prsesentium  et  futur- 
orum  ipsius  Domini,  Urbani  Papse  prsedicti,  et  Suc- 
cessorum  suorum  Canonice  intrantium,  et  per  Col- 
legium Cardinalium,  dicto  Domino  Urbano  adhserens 
eligendorum,  cum  Serenissimo  Principe,  Domino 
Ricardo  Rege  Angliae  Illustri,  Fratre  nostro  carissimo 
pro  se,  et  suis  Hseredibus  Angliae  Regibus,  etc. 

The  negotiations  in  Flanders  being  success- 
ful and  confirmed  in  Bohemia  and  England,  on 
March  29,  1381,  power  was  given  to  Edmund, 
Earl  of  Cambridge,  Hugo  Segrave,  and  Albert 
de  Vere  for  concluding  the  treaty  on  the  part 
of  England.52  For  the  same  purpose  the  Duke 
of  Tetschen  and  his  colleagues  were  received 
in  England  May  1,  1381,  and  the  treaty  of  mar- 
riage and  alliance  was  signed  on  the  second  of 
that  month.53  This  document  consists  of 
first,  the  treaty  itself,  Tractatus  de  Matrimonio 
Regis  cum  Anna  Sorore    Imperatoris;  next   a 

62  This  paper  occurs  in  Rymer  only  at  vii,  294,  with  other 
papers  of  the  treaty  signed  in  duplicate  for  the  rulers  of  the 
two  kingdoms.  It  is  not  in  its  chronological  place.  One 
point  in  the  document  is  worthy  of  note  as  perhaps  implying 
England's  great  interest  in  the  alliance.  While  in  the  com- 
mission of  Dec.  26,  1380,  the  points  to  be  considered  by  the 
contracting  parties  are  first  the  marriage,  and  second  the 
alliance,  they  are  here  reversed  and  the  subject  of  the 
alliance  considerably  extended. 

63  Rymer,  vii,  290-1. 


232  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

recitation  of  the  powers  of  the  ambassadors, 
Tenores  vero  Procuratoriorum,  de  quibus  superius 
fit  mentio,  sequuntur  sub  hac  Forma.  The  latter 
are  first  from  Wenceslaus  himself  as  to  the  alli- 
ance, then  Anne  assenting  to  the  negotiations; 
Wenceslaus  again  as  to  the  marriage  of  his  sis- 
ter; Elizabeth,  mother  of  Anne,  giving  her 
consent;  and  finally  Richard  assenting  and  ap- 
pointing his  ambassadors.  These  documents 
fill  five  and  a  half  of  Rymer's  folio  pages. 

Even  these  are  not  all  the  records  connected 
with  this  royal  marriage  alliance.  Several 
others  fill  subsequent  pages  of  Rymer.54  First  is 
an  Obligatio  Imperatoris  pro  20  Millibus  Flore- 
norum,  for  the  sum  to  be  applied  on  the  expenses 
in  connection  with  the  negotiations  for  the  mar- 
riage; the  Obligatio  Ambassiatorwn  [sic]  de 
Summa  Regi  Romanorum  mutuata;  De  Obliga- 
tione  facta  Regi  Romanorum,  by  which  Richard 
agreed  to  loan  (mutuare)  Wenceslaus  80,000 
florins  when  Anne  was  safely  conducted  to 
Calais;  a  document  De  quietantia  certarum  sum- 
marum  super  Traductione  Annce,  Sororis  Im- 
peratoris, in  satisfaction  of  the  former  pledge 
of  the  emperor  as  to  the  20,000  florins;55  and 

M  Rymer,  vii,  295f. 

66  The  exact  agreement  was  that  the  emperor  Wenceslaus 
should  advance  20,000  florins  for  the  expenses  of  the  nego- 
tiations and  the  journey  of  Anne;  that,  on  her  safe  reception 
in  England,  he  should  receive  a  loan  of  80,000  florins,  20,000 
of  which  should  not  be  returned  as  recompensing  him  for  the 
expenses  incurred.     Still  further,  on  receiving  the  Duke  of 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       233 

finally  a  further  paper  De  Potestate  tractandi  cum 
Principibus  Alemannice,  super  Ligis,  this  last 
dated  the  tenth  of  May. 

These  numerous  documents  give  some  idea 
of  the  elaborate  negotiations  of  Richard  and  his 
advisers  with  the  king  of  Bohemia  and  emperor 
of  the  Romans.  Yet  there  is  further  evidence 
of  the  extent  to  which  the  business  was  carried. 
In  the  first  place,  the  pope  had  been  influential 
in  bringing  England  and  Bohemia  together, 
largely,  it  is  very  clear,  for  the  support  which 
Urban  VI  thus  obtained  against  his  rival  Clem- 
ent VII.  As  already  noted,56  the  cardinal  of 
Ravenna  had  been  in  England  a  considerable 
time  in  direct  representation  of  the  pope.  The 
result  was  that  the  alliance  was  accompanied 
with  even  more  intimate  relations  of  England 
and  the  papacy.  These  relations  are  indicated 
by  a  series  of  documents  which  show  how  fully 

Tetschen  in  May,  1381,  Richard  at  once  settled  upon  him 
500  marks  sterling  for  the  term  of  his  natural  life.  This 
was,  in  the  language  of  the  decree,  "de  Gratia  nostra  spe- 
cialist pro  eo  quod,Magnificum  Virum,  Przimislaum  Ducem 
Teschinensem  penes  Nos  et  de  Concilio  nostro  retinuimus, 
ad  Terminum  vita?  suae  moraturum,  ac  etiam  pro  bono  Ser- 
vitio  suo  Nobis,  impenso  et  in  futurum  impendendo."  Sim- 
ilar amounts  were  also  granted  to  Petrus  de  Wartemberg  and 
Conrad  Crayer,  while  sums  of  500  gold  florins  were  given 
to  Borzewey  de  Swyner,  200  each  to  Sifridus  Foster  and  Con- 
rad di  Ridberg,  and  fifty  marks  sterling  to  Lupoldus  de 
Crayer,  son  of  Conrad.  Rymer,  vii,  288;  I  have  preserved 
the  spelling  of  the  names  as  they  appear  in  the  decree. 
66  See  p.  218. 


234  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

the  pope  and  his  artful  legate57  looked  to  their 
own  interests.  First  is  one  giving  the  papal 
legate  certain  substantial  rewards,  De  Fructibus 
Decanatus  Eborum  liberandis  Cardinali  Ra- 
vennas,  dated  May  3,  1381,  the  day  after  the 


67  The  extent  of  Cardinal  de  Prata's  personal  rewards  from 
his  sojourn  in  England  may  be  best  inferred  from  the  words 
of  the  Chronicon  Anglice,  (Rolls  Series  64,  283):  "Pileus, 
tituli  Sanctae  Praxedis,  presbyter  cardinalis,  per  istud  tem- 
pus  venit  in  Angliam.  .  .  .  et  regem  Anglorum,  et  reg- 
num  de  inaestimabile  summa  pecuniae  vacuaturus.  Nam, 
ut  asseruit,  potestatem  afferens  inauditam,  in  brevi  totum 
regnum  ad  ipsum  confluere  fecit  pro  diversis  gratiis  impe- 
trandis.  Revera  diversa  diversis  beneficia  contulit;  indul- 
gentias  quas  dominus  papa  concedere  solummodo  consuevit, 
et  ipse  concessit;  biennales,  triennales,  confessionales  literas 
quibuslibet  solventibus  gratanter  indulsit.  Ad  capella- 
natumdomini  papse  tarn  possessionatos  quam  mendicantes 
admisit,  nee  aurum  eorum  respuit,  qui  notarii  publici  effici 
precabantur.  Altaria  quoque  portatilia  nulli  pecuniam 
offerenti  negavit.  Nee  quadraginta  libras,  cum  aliis  donis 
Cisterciensium,  repulit,  quin  gratiose  concederet  eis  licen- 
tiam  generalem  vescendi  carnibus  extra  monasterium  indif- 
ferenter,  ut  in  monasterio  edere  consueverunt.  Excom- 
municatis  gratiam  absolutionis  impendit.  Vota  perigrina- 
tionis  ad  Apostolarum  limina,  ad  Terram  Sanctam,  ad  Sanc- 
tum Jacobum,  non  prius  remisit,  quam  tantam  pecuniam 
recepisset,  quantam,  juxtaveram  sestimationem,  in  eisdem 
perigrinationibus  expendere  debuissent.  Et  ut  cuncta  con- 
cludam  brevibus,  nihil  omnino  petendum  erat,  quod  non 
censuit,  intercedente  pecunia,  concedendum.  Interrogatus 
autem  in  qua  poteste  hsec  faceret,  cum  summa  indignatione 
respondit,  se  Romse,  si  scire  vellent  ejus  potestatem,  omni- 
bus responsurum.  Jamque  adeo  referti  erant  argento  ejus 
sacculi,  ut  advenientibus  ejus  ministri  respondere  dedigna- 
rentur,  nisi  aurum  efferent,  dicentes,  'Afferte  nobis  aurum; 
argento  namquc  vestro  pleni  Bumus.'     Recessurus  autem, 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       235 

signing  of  the  treaty  of  marriage.58  Then  come 
the  documents  De  Procedendo  contra  Scismati- 
cos,  and  De  Potentate  Tractandi  cum  Papa,  de 
Ligis,  both  on  May  5,  and  both  appointing  Sir 
John  Hawkwood,  Nicholas  Dagworth,  and  Wal- 
ter Skirlawe  to  negotiate  with  the  pope.69  These 
are  followed  by  papal  bulls  from  Urban  VI 
to  Richard,  dated  Oct.  27,  1380,  and  March  18, 
1381,  and  recorded  on  May  6.  Then  come 
the  pecuniary  rewards  to  the  pope  in  a  decree, 
De  Fructibus  Archidiaconatuum  et  Prcebendarum, 

aurum  post  se  nequaquam  relinquere  voluit ;  sed  secum  super 
summarios  deferri  fecit,  ad  tantam  quidem  summam,  quan- 
tam  nunquam  Anglia  in  taxa  vel  tallagio  semel  pendere  con- 
suevit."  Adam  of  Usk  (Chronicon,  p.  2-3)  is  no  less  severe: 
"Ineundo  cardinalis  iste,  false  se  fingens  legatum  a  latere 
esse  ac  potestatem  pape  habere,  vices  papales  tunc  exer- 
cuit;  me  inter  cetera  notarium  tunc,  licet  inutiliter,  in  domo 
fratrum  predicacionis  Londonie,  ubi  tunc  morabitur,  creavit. 
Infinitam  pecuniam  sic  collegit,  et  ab  Anglia  cum  eadem 
pecunia,  eodem  tractatu  matrimonii  expedito,  ad  sui  re- 
cessit  dampnationem;  credens  tamen,  licet  in  vanum,  facta 
sua  hujusmodi  per  papam  ratificari."  Chaucer  may  well 
have  had  this  prelate  in  mind  when  pointing  some  of  his 
satire  against  the  plundering  clergy,  as  in  the  picture  of 
the  Pardoner,  'His  walet.  .  .  .  Bretful  of  pardoun 
come  from  Rome  al  hoot.' 

68  Rymer,  vii,  296.  Also  the  archdeaconate  of  Durham 
on  July  11,  1381;    Rymer,  vii,  320. 

69  It  will  be  remembered,  from  the  discussion  of  the  dates 
of  the  incidents  in  The  Knight's  Tale,  that  this  May  5,  1381, 
was  Sunday.  Numerous  other  important  acts  of  the  year 
are  dated  on  Sunday,  as  those  of  June  23  and  30  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Peasant  Revolt,  and  that  for  conducting  Anne 
to  the  king's  presence,  Dec.  1.  The  ratification  of  the  treaty 
of  alliance  by  Wenceslaus  was   also  on  a  Sunday,  Sept.  1. 


236  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

per  Cardinales  Rebelles  occupatorum,  Popce  Con- 
cessis,  May  8.  Finally,  there  is  associated  with 
these  a  delegation  of  power  to  Sir  John  Hawk- 
wood,  Nicholas  Dagworth,  and  Walter  Skir- 
lawe,  De  Potestale  Tractandi  cum  Ducibus  et 
Dominis  de  Partibus  Italice  super  Ligis  et  Ami- 
citiis.  The  alliance  of  England,  that  is,  though 
usually  thought  of  as  with  Bohemia  only,  in- 
cluded the  papal  states  and  Italy.  These  show 
the  relations  of  both  alliances  to  the  support 
of  the  pope.  As  already  noted  (p.  208)  it  is 
possible  that  these  further  treaties  with  the 
papal  states  and  Italy  account  for  Chaucer's 
use  of  the  plural  '  contrees'  in  1.  2973.  Except 
for  France  and  Spain,  England  was  now  united 
with  most  of  the  countries  of  western  Europe 
in  the  support  of  Urban,  though  more  especially 
with  Bohemia  by  reason  of  the  marriage  alli- 
ance. 

The  treaty  with  the  king  of  Bohemia,  signed 
by  commissioners  of  the  two  countries  on  May 
2,  1381,  was  formally  ratified  by  Wenceslaus 
at  Prague  on  Sept.  1  of  that  year.  A  letter  to 
that  effect  is  given  in  Rymer  vii,  331,  under 
the  caption  Ligarum,  cum  Rege,  Ratificalio  Im- 
peratoris.  This  has  bearing  on  one  point  con- 
nected with  the  coming  of  Anne  to  England. 
It  is  often  said  that  she  was  to  have  been  re- 
ceived before  Michaelmas  (Sept.  £9),  1381,  and 
that  she  was  delayed  by   the  Rebellion  of  Wat 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE        237 

Tyler.60  This  idea  is  not  fully  justified  by  the 
original  treaty,  which  specifies  "  circa  Festum 
Sancti  Michaelis  proximo  futurum"  as  the 
time  when  Anne  should  be  brought  "in  Re^num 
nostrum  Angliae,  vel  saltern  ad  villam  nostram 
Calesii,  per  praedictos  Amicos  et  Parentes  ip- 
sius,  et  eorum  expensis."61  Besides,  the  late 
ratification  of  the  treaty  by  Wenceslaus  also 
makes  such  a  supposition  unlikely,  if  not  im- 
possible. Indeed,  safe  conduct  was  not  given 
to  one  of  Anne's  attendants,  John  Eutermynel 
de  Luk,  until  Oct.  28  62  The  commissioners  to 
receive  the  princess  were  also  not  appointed  until 
Dec .  1 . 63  Moreover,  Froissart  tells  us  that  Anne 
was  detained  in  Brussels  "more  than  the  space 
of  a  month"  for  fear  of  Norman  pirates,  rather 
than  because  of  the  troubles  in  England,  of 
which  in  this  place  he  gives  no  hint.64    It  is 

60  Bilderbeck,  Selections  from  Chaucer's  Minor  Poems, 
p.  72.  Tatlock,  Development  and  Chronology  of  Chaucer's 
Works,  p.  42. 

'  61  Rymer,  vii,  301;  cf.  the    Obligatio   Imperatoris   pro  20 
Millibus  Florenorum. 

62  Rymer,  vii,  335,  Pro  comitiva  Annce  futuroz  Consortis 
Regis. 

63  Rymer,  vii,  336,  De  Domina  Anna,  Regina  Futura,  ad 
Prozsentiam  Regis  ducenda. 

64  Chronicles,  ii,  ch.  86;  Johnes,  i,  681:  "The  Lady  Anne 
of  Bohemia  remained  with  her  uncle  and  aunt  at  Brussels 
upwards  of  a  month.  She  was  afraid  of  moving,  for  she  had 
been  informed  there  were  twelve  large  armed  vessels,  full 
of  Normans,  on  the  sea  between  Calais  and  Holland,  that 
seized  and  pillaged  all  that  fell  into  their  hands,  and  it  was 
indifferent  to  them  who  they  were.     The  report  was  current 


238  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

true  that,  in  another  passage,65  he  sums  up  all 
the  reasons  for  delay  as  follows:  "For  the 
damsel  was  young,  and  the  councils  of  each 
party  had  many  things  to  arrange;  add  to  this 
there  shortly  afterward  happened  in  England 
great  misery  and  great  tribulation . ' '  The  latter 
clause  probably  refers  to  the  Peasant  Revolt. 
Yet  the  delay  seems  fully  accounted  for  in  other 
ways,  and  in  any  case  that  Revolt  seems  to  have 
been  but  one  of  several  causes  tending  to  put 
off  the  marriage. 

The  account  of  this  alliance  has  been  given 
at  length  to  show,  from  the  time  consumed  in  the 
negotiations  and  the  number  of  details  and 
documents,  how  important  it  must  have  seemed 
to  the  people  of  the  fourteenth  century.  In  the 
first  flush  of  its  accomplishment,  it  must  have 
made  a  particularly  strong  impression  on  the 
English  court  and  the  English  people.  No  such 
far-reaching  treaty  had  been  made  in  that  gen- 
eration. By  it  the  traditional  ally  of  France 
had  been  brought  over  to  the  English  side,  and 
great  results  were  expected  in  the  French  war. 
Speaking  of  the  attempts  to  find  Richard  a  suit- 
able bride,  C.  Oman  says: 

that  they  cruised  in  those  seas  waiting  for  the  coming  of 
this  lady;  and  that  the  king  of  France  and  his  council  were 
desirous  of  carrying  her  off,  in  order  to  break  the  match,  for 
they  were  very  uneasy  at  this  alliance  of  the  Germans  with 
the  English.  ...  On  account  of  these  suspicions  and 
fears,  the  young  lady  remained  in  Brussels  one  whole  month. 
65  See  the  quotation  on  p.  227. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       239 

But  a  more  splendid  alliance  was  finally  concluded 
with  the  sister  of  the  monarch  who  held  the  highest 
titular  dignity  in  Christendom,  Wenceslaus,  King 
of  Bohemia  and  emperor-elect.  ...  A  connec- 
tion with  him  was  hailed  with  joy  by  the  whole 
realm.66 

In  his  article  on  Richard  II  in  The  Dictionary 
of  National  Biography,  J.  Tout  says : 

But  the  refusal  of  Wenceslaus  of  Bohemia,  the 
new  king  of  the  Romans,  to  follow  his  relative  and 
traditional  ally,  the  King  of  France,  in  his  support 
of  Clement  placed  a  much  more  brilliant  match  with- 
in Richard's  reach.  The  opportunity  of  drawing 
central  Europe  into  his  alliance  against  France  was 
not  to  be  missed,  and  Richard  knew  Charles  V  to  be 
seeking  the  hand  of  Wenceslaus's  sister  Anne  for  his 
own  son  (Valois,  i,  300;  Usk,  p.  31).  Urban  used 
all  his  influence  in  Richard's  favour.67 

Besides,  we  have  the  authority  of  Froissart 
that  the  alliance  was  seriously  regarded  by  Eng- 

~66  Political  History  of  England,  iv,  66. 

67  If  I  may  hazard  an  opinion,  after  reading  all  the  acces- 
sible documents  rather  carefully,  the  forms  of  both  the  above 
statements  give  a  wrong  idea  of  the  initiative  in  the  alliance. 
John  of  Gaunt  and  the  council  of  the  king  may  have  hoped 
for  great  assistance  from  it,  but  we  can  now  see  that  the 
main  mover  in  the  whole  procedure  was  the  pope.  More- 
over, the  pope  and  Wenceslaus  were  the  only  ones  greatly 
benefited  by  the  alliance.  The  former  gained  support  for 
his  divided  kingdom,  the  latter  a  vast  sum  for  his  personal 
pleasures.  Though  Anne  made  a  good  queen  and  was  pas- 
sionately loved  by  Richard,  England  was  mainly  a  pawn  in 
the  great  game  of  international  politics. 


240  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

land's  great  rival.  We  have  already  noted  the 
gravity  with  which  the  dying  Charles  V  of 
France  sensed  the  situation.68  Moreover,  speak- 
ing of  the  Norman  ships  in  the  channel  when 
Anne  was  waiting  in  Brussels  to  go  over  to  Eng- 
land, Froissart  saj^s : 

The  report  was  current  that  they  cruised  in  those 
seas,  waiting  for  the  coming  of  this  lady;  and  that 
the  king  of  France  and  his  council  were  desirous  of 
carrying  her  off,  in  order  to  break  the  match,  for 
they  were  very  anxious  at  this  alliance  of  the  Germans 
and  the  English.69 

Everything  shows  that  this  English-German 
league  made  a  profound  impression  in  Europe 
as  a  whole. 

The  importance  of  such  a  foreign  alliance  may 
well  explain  why  it  was  in  Chaucer's  mind  when, 
in  writing  the  Palamon  and  Arcite,  he  came  to 
the  marriage  of  Palamon  and  Emily,  an  almost 
royal  union  between  representatives  of  two  in- 
dependent states.  The  likeness  of  the  situation 
may  easily  have  impressed  him  strongly,  and 
the  direct  reference  to  things  English  have  slip- 
ped into  the  narrative  of  things  fictitious,  to 
which  the  poet  was  giving  a  new  reality  in  his 
verse.  Such  influence  of  things  actual  would 
have  been  especially  natural  during   the  last 

"See  p.  220. 

"Chambeulayne,  in  the  dissertation  already  referred 
to,  undertakes  to  discredit  this  whole  passage  in  Froissart, 
but  it  seems  to  me  on  insufficient  evidence. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       241 

part  of  1381,  or  the  first  part  of  1382.  As  we 
have  seen,  the  Duke  of  Tetschen  and  his  fellow 
commissioners  arrived  the  first  of  May,  1381, 
though  the  treaty  was  not  ratified  until  Sept. 
1,  and  Anne  did  not  actually  come  to  England 
until  after  the  middle  of  December.  Then  came 
the  royal  wedding,  for  which  parliament  was 
halted  in  its  deliberations,  to  assemble  again 
on  Jan.  27.  If  Professor  Lowes  is  correct  in  his 
explanation  of  "the  tempest  at  hir  hoom  com- 
inge,"70  and  his  suggestion  in  the  same  paper 
that  "the  feste  that  was  at  hir  weddynge"may 
be  an  allusion  to  the  feasting  at  Anne's  marriage, 
the  further  reference  of  the  line, 

"To  have  with  certein  contrees  alliaunce" 

would  seem  to  confirm  such  a  date,  if  not  to 
establish  it  with  practical  certainty. 

There  is  perhaps  even  more  confirmation  of 
the  point  in  the  reference  of  the  lines  preceding 
those  relating  to  an  alliance: 

"Thanne  semed  me  ther  was  a  parlement 
At  Athenes  upon  certein  poynts  and  caas." 

These  lines  are  also  based  on  nothing  in  the  orig- 
inal Teseide,  but  again  have  an  unmistakable 
parallel  in  the  events  of  the  time  in  England. 
"Thanne  semed  me"  is  certainly  Chaucer's 
own  remark  of  the  original  Palamon  and  Arcite, 
unchanged  when  the  story  was  given  to  the 
Knight  of  The  Canterbury  Tales.     The  'parle- 

70  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  xix,  240  f. 


242  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

ment '  may  as  easily  have  been  that  which  sat 
from  Nov.  13,  1381,  for  exactly  a  month,  when 
it  was  adjourned  for  the  holidays,  the  coming 
of  the  new  queen,  the  marriage,  and  the  festiv- 
ities attending  them.  Owing  to  the  latter  events 
its  sessions  were  not  resumed  until  Jan.  27, 
much  to  the  dislike  of  its  members,  we  are  told. 
It  continued  to  sit  until  Feb.  25,  and  in  both 
sessions  had  before  it  many  weighty  "poynts 
and  caas"  to  be  settled.  The  Peasant  Revolt 
had  made  necessary  various  acts,  as  of  indemnity 
for  those  who  had  put  rebels  to  death  without 
trial;  annulment  of  the  charters  of  freedom  to 
villeins  which  the  young  king  had  granted  to 
pacify  the  rebels;  a  general  amnesty  at  the 
suggestion  of  Anne;71  a  change  in  the  king's 
household,  and  the  settlement  of  a  quarrel 
between  John  of  Gaunt  and  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland.72  To  this  busy  parliament, 
one  which  must  have  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion at  the  time,  Richard  applied  for  a 
grant  of  money  because   of  his  approaching 


71  There  are  two  of  these  in  Rymer  (vii,  337,  345),  both 
addressed  to  the  Count  of  Kent.  The  first  is  entitled  De 
Generali  Pardonatione,  ad  Requisitionem  Annce  futures  Con- 
8orlis  Regis  concessa,  proclamanda,  and  is  dated  Dec.  13, 
l.'iSl;  the  second  De  Pardonationibus,  ad  Requisitionem 
Anna:  Regince  concessis,  proclamandis,  dated  Feb.  14,  1382 
CX.  S.j.  The  first  refers  with  some  warmth  to  the  'detest- 
able insurrection'  (detestabile  insurrectione,  nuper  facta). 

72  Ckronicon  Anglice,  p.  328;  Oman,  Pol.  Hist,  of  Eng.,  iv, 
62-3. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       243 

marriage  with  Anne.73  While  the  treaty  of 
alliance  had  already  been  entered  into,  the  re- 
quest for  money  would  certainly  have  brought 
discussion  of  the  whole  matter.  Not  unlikely, 
supporters  of  the  measure  made  much  of  the 
great  alliance  just  formed,  and  the  expected 
advantage  to  England.  Such,  at  any  rate, 
would  fully  account  for  the  allusion  by  Chaucer. 
Both  parts  of  the  reference,  therefore,  would 
point  to  the  year  1381,  more  especially  the  lat- 
ter part  when  the  alliance  was  to  be  consum- 
mated by  the  royal  marriage. 

It  may  be  argued  that  the  last  line  of  the 
allusion, 

"And  have  fully  of  Thebans  obeissaunce," 

interferes  with  the  suggested  interpretation. 
To  this  it  may  be  said  that,  except  for  the  one 
word  " Thebans, "this  line  is  equally  applicable 
to  the  circumstances  of  the  time.  Like  'Athenes' 
in  line  2971,  the  word  was  necessary  to  the  story, 
even  if  Chaucer  intended  an  indirect  reference 
to  English  affairs.  Beyond  this,  the  idea  is 
equally  foreign  to  the  Teseide,  and  equally 
appropriate  to  English  conditions.  The  quo- 
tation from  Froissart  on  p.  208  is  full  proof 
that  England  wished  such  an  alliance  as  would 

73  Rotuli  Parliamentorum,  iii,  p.  104a.  The  entry  is  in  a 
paragraph  relating  what  was  done  on  Friday,  Dec.  13,  and 
as  Parliament  also  adjourned  on  that  day  for  the  holidays, 
it  is  clear  that  the  application  could  not  have  been  later. 


244  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

assist  her  in  her  long-standing  quarrel  with 
France.  Especially  John  of  Gaunt,  the  chief 
figure  in  the  royal  family,  may  well  have  de- 
sired an  ally  against  France  and  Spain,  now 
joined  against  his  claim  to  the  Spanish  throne.74 
Perhaps  this  was  the  reason  also,  why  the  offer 
of  Bernabo  Visconti's  daughter  with  a  Vast 
amount  of  gold'75  had  been  rejected.  At 
least  an  active  ally  was  felt  to  be  important, 
and  in  the  league  with  Wenceslaus  the 
rulers  of  England  thought  they  had  secured 
such  powerful  aid  against  their  enemies.  To 
mention,  therefore,  the  '  obeissaunce'  expected 
of  Germany  would  doubtless  be  in  keeping 
with  what  Chaucer  was  hearing  on  every  hand. 
It  is  not  necessary  for  our  purpose  to  point 
out  that  this  great  alliance  finally  proved  of 
little  advantage  to  England.  Although  the 
emperor  Wenceslaus  was  willing  to  enter  into 
an  agreement  against  schismatics  and  for  the 
support  of  Urban  against  Clement,  he  never 
seems  to  have  had  any  intention  of  actively 
opposing  the  political  enemies  of  England, 
especially  France,  to  which  he  was  bound  by 
bonds  of  blood  and  friendship.  This  of  course, 
did  not  become  known  until  some  time  after 
Wenceslaus  had  consented  to  give  his  sister  to 
Richard  II  for  the  considerable  sum  of  80,000 

74  Cf.  J.  Armitage-Smith's  John  of  Gaunt,  p.  260f. 
76  "Cum  inaestimabile  auri  summa,"  Chronicon  Anglice, 
331. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       245 

florins.  Exactly  when  that  sum  was  paid  I  do 
not  now  know,76  but  presumably  it  was  at  least 
before  the  Duke  of  Tetschen  left  England  in 
August,  1382. 77  Meanwhile  England  continued 
her  efforts  to  make  a  further  treaty  of  league  and 
friendship  with  the  emperor,  and  a  further  com- 
mission was  appointed.78  The  specific  purpose 
of  this  league  is  clearly  outlined  in  the  instruc- 
tions.   It  was  to  be  established, 

"  Specialiter,  in  specialibus,  contra  Karolum  Mod- 
ernum  occupatorem  Regni  Francise,  Ludowicum 
Comitem  Valesii  ipsius  Germanum,  Ludowicum  An- 
degavensem,  Johannem  Buturicensem,  et  Philippum 
Burgundise,  Duces,  prsetensos,  ipsius  Karoli  Patruos, 
necnon  contra  Johannem  olim  nominantem  se  Regem 
Castellae  et  Legionis,  adhuc  Occupatorem  dicti  Regni 
Castellae  et  Legionis,  licet  per  Ecclesiam  depositum 
et  damnatum,  et  Robertum  gerentem  se  pro  Rege 
Scotiae,  eorumque  Haeredes,  Valitores  et  Fautores."79 

The  commissioners  probably  accompanied  the 
Duke  of  Tetschen  as  he  returned  to  Bohemia, 
but  in  any  case  their  efforts  were  unavailing. 
Wenceslaus  was  more  interested  in  his  ease  and 
personal  pleasure  than  in  fighting  Richard's 
battles.     He  was  willing  only  that  some  very 

76  It  was  to  have  been  within  fifteen  days  after  Anne's 
arrival  (infra  quindecim  dies);  Rymer, vii,301. 

77  Safe  conduct  was  given  him  by  the  council  of  the  realm 
on  August  12;  Rymer,  vii,  364. 

78  Rymer,  vii,  364;  De  Tractando  cum  Rege  Romanorum  et 
Boemice  super  Ligis  et  Amicitiis,  dated  Aug.  16.  1382. 

79  Rymer,  vii,  365, 


246  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

mild  agreement  should  be  entered  into.  Such 
an  agreement  between  the  two  kings  may  have 
been  made.  At  least  in  March,  1383,80  a  proc- 
lamation of  Richard  speaks  of  the  'friendship 
and  constancy'  (sinceri  amoris  dulcedinem  et 
intimaedilectionisconstantiam)  between  Wen  ces- 
laus  and  himself,  which  'are  known  to  thrive  and 
to  have  thriven'  (vigere  ac  etiam  viguissenos- 
cuntur)  "longis  retroactis  temporibus  ac  etiam 
ex  nova  pridem  affinitate  contracta."  The  proc- 
lamation goes  on  to  speak  of  'certain  treaties, 
confederations  or  compacts  we  have  entered  into' 
(quasdam  ligas,  confcederationes,  sive  pacta 
duximus  inienda),and  adds  that  we  shall  be  now 
and  in  future  true,  loyal,  and  perfect  brothers 
and  friends  (quod  exnunc  et  in  antea,  temporibus 
perpetuis  affuturis,  veri,  legales,  ac  perfecti 
fratres  erimus  et  amici).  As  this  was  far  from 
an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  we  may 
perhaps  surmise  it  was  merely  intended  to 
strengthen  the  hopes  of  that  crusade  against 
the  schismatic  pope,  Clement  VII,  which  Urban 
VI  had  proclaimed,  and  for  which  England  sent 
to  Flanders  a  disastrous  expedition  under  the 
fighting  Bishop  of  Norwich. 

Yet  the  failure  of  the  alliance  of  England  and 
Bohemia,  at  least  so  far  as  assisting  England 
against  her  enemies,  could  not  be  foreseen  in 
the  glamor  of  its  first  publication.  Besides, 
Chaucer  would  be  only  too  likely  to  reflect  the 

80  Rtmer,  vii,  382. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       247 

optimism  of  the  court  circle,  when  he  made  allu- 
sion to  it  in  his  new  poem.  The  ultimate 
failure  of  the  league,  therefore,  is  no  bar  to 
the  interpretation  of  the  passage  under  discus- 
sion. 

The  question  may  naturally  arise  whether, 
if  these  allusions  bear  so  closely  upon  the  events 
of  the  time,  there  may  not  be  other  passages 
which  relate  to  similar  circumstances.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  value  of  such  allusions  is  in 
their  wholly  incidental  character,  their  almost 
unconscious  inclusion  in  the  author's  work. 
We  should  not  expect  many  such,  in  any  poem 
not  distinctly  allegorical.  Yet  an  examination 
of  other  parts  of  The  Knight's  Tale  with  this  in 
view  has  revealed  one  slight  allusion  that,  in 
connection  with  the  more  significant  passage 
above,  may  have  relation  to  the  year  1381. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  Palamon  and  Arcite 
are  said  to  be, 

"of  the  blood  royal 
Of  Thebes,  and  of  sustren  two  y-born"  (11.  1018-9). 

This  royal  relationship  is  again  referred  to  in 
Arcite's  speech,  11.  1545-51 : 

"Alias,   y-broght  is  to  confusioun 
The  blood  royal  of  Cadme  and  Amphioun; 
Of  Cadmus,  which  that  was  the  firste  man 
That  Thebes  bulte,  or  first  the  toun  began, 
And  of  the  citee  first  was  crouned  king, 
Of  his  linage  am  I,  and  his  of-spring 
By  verray  ligne,  as  of  the  stok  royal." 


248  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

Further  than  this  the  relation  of  the  brothers 
to  royalty  is  not  explained  by  Chaucer,  nor,  so 
far  as  I  find,  in  the  Teseide.  Yet  when  praising 
Palamon  to  Emily  in  1.  3084  Theseus  makes 
the  very  distinctive  statement, 

"He  is  a  kinges  brother  sone,  pardee." 

This  quite  exact  description  of  relationship  is 
in  a  passage  to  which  there  is  no  counterpart 
in  the   Teseide,  according  to  the  comparison 
made  by  Mr.  H.  S.  Ward.81    As  we  have  been 
already  told  by  Chaucer  that  the  two  lovers 
are  children  of  two  sisters  (1.  1019),  we  must 
now  assume  that  they  are,  at  the  same  time, 
sons  of  two  brothers.     This  is  no  impossible 
condition,  of  course,  but  it  seems  strange  that, 
if  it  were  of  importance  enough  to  chronicle, 
it  should  not  have  been  mentioned  in  the  first, 
or   an   early   reference   to    their   relationship. 
Moreover,  though  the  'blood  royal'  has  been 
mentioned,  we  are  nowhere  told  that  either  is 
a  king's  son,  except  in  the  general  sense  of 
lines   1545-50.     If  this  were  a  possibility  in 
Chaucer's  mind,  why  should  he  not  have  made 
the  praise  of  Palamon  greater  by  calling  him 
a  king's  son  at  once?    On  the  contrary,  we  are 
now  virtually  informed  that  Arcite's  father  was 
a  king,  and  Palamon's  was  not.    This  is  the  more 

81  See  the  side  notes  to  the  Six-text  edition  of  The  Canter- 
bury Tales,  Chaucer  Society  Publ.,  Cambridge  and  Lans- 
downe  MSS.,  and  the  reprints  of  the  latter. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       249 

surprising,  also,  since  the  passage  is  apparently 
one  of  praise  for  Palamon,  though  really  detract- 
ing from  the  rank  of  the  hero,  as  compared  with 
that  of  his  dead  cousin.  All  things  considered, 
therefore,  the  expression  warrants  some  expla- 
nation, and  a  not  unnatural  one  may  be  found 
in  another  indirect  allusion  to  the  young 
king. 

We  have  seen  how  Chaucer  associated  the 
marriage  of  Palamon  and  Emily  with  that  of 
Richard  and  Anne,  at  least  so  far  as  to  refer  to 
circumstances  of  the  latter's  coming  to  England 
in  lines  2967f.  The  situation  perhaps  had 
another  parallel  in  his  mind  when  he  made 
Theseus  address  Emily  as  'suster'  in  line  3075, 
and  Chaucer  refer  to  her  as  such  in  lines  1833 
and  2818.  Theseus  thus  stands  in  the  same  rela- 
tion to  her  as  did  the  emperor  Wenceslaus  to 
the  future  wife  of  Richard.  Even  if  this  ele- 
ment in  the  parallelism  of  situation  did  not  in- 
fluence the  poet,  he  had  still  used  it  sufficiently 
\so  that,  in  praising  the  bridegroom  Palamon,  he 
may  easily  have  turned  in  thought  to  the  royal 
Richard,  and  used  language  exactly  applicable 
to  him.  Not  a  king 's  son  himself ,  Richard  was 
the  son  of  a  brother  of  one  who,  for  a  decade, 
had  been  accepted  by  the  English  as  the  right- 
ful king  of  Spain.  The  young  Richard  II  was 
actually,  therefore,  that  which  it  would  seem 


250  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

Palamon  could  scarcely  have  been,  a  'kinges 
brother  sone.'82 

This  relationship,  so  understood  of  Richard, 
is  one  which  we  might  easily  miss.  We  give 
little  attention  to  the  claim  of  John  of  Gaunt 
to  the  throne  of  Spain,  because  we  know  how 
completely  he  failed  to  make  it  good.83  It  is 
needless  to  say  that  the  England  of  Richard's 
time  thought  differently.  Not  only  was  John 
of  Gaunt  the  richest  and  most  powerful  noble, 
but  he  was  by  all  odds  the  greatest  figure  in 
England  during  the  last  years  of  Edward  the 
Third's  reign  and  most  of  Richard's.  His 
claim  to  the  throne  of  Spain  was  fully  allowed. 
He  was  regularly  called  King  of  Castile  in  the 
royal  degrees  and  commissions  of  the  time.84 
There  was  every  reason,  therefore,  why  an  Eng- 
lish poet  of  the  last  quarter  of  the  fourteenth 
century  should  have  thought  it  an  honor  to 

82  Although  making  no  mention  of  this  passage  or  possible 
allusion  to  Richard  II  in  Chaucer's  Knight's  Tale,  Hofler 
does  call  special  attention  to  just  this  peculiarity  of  the  situ- 
ation: "Es  war  eine  schwerwiegende  Thatsache :  Richards 
Oheime  waren  Konigssohne,  aber  nicht  er,  der  Konig." 
Anna  von  Luxemburg,  p.  121. 

83That  is,  in  his  own  case.  But  by  the  treaty  of  1388 
with  Juan  I  of  Castile,  John  of  Gaunt' s  daughter  Kath- 
erine  married  the  Infante  Enrique,  and  as  his  wife  be- 
came queen  of  Castile  in  1390.  The  arrangement  was  a 
virtual  acknowledgment  of  John  of  Gaunt's  claim  to 
the  throne,  at  least  in  the  person  of  his  heir. 

"See  the  documents  in  Rymer's  F  aider  a  after  1371.  In 
these  he  is  regularly  called  John,  King  of  Castile,  or  Castile 
and  Leon,  before  he  is  named  Duke  of  Lancaster. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       251 

speak  of  him  as  king.  Moreover,  to  recognize 
this  relation  was  real  praise  to  the  young  Rich- 
ard. He  was  but  a  boy  of  fourteen  or  fifteen. 
Except  for  his  dramatic  appearance  before  the 
revolting  peasants  in  the  summer  of  1381,  he 
had  been  no  real  influence  in  active  affairs.  He 
was  still  to  remain  in  leading  strings  for  five 
years  more.  Though  a  king  in  name,  he  was 
still  best  known  to  his  people  as  son  of  the 
Black  Prince,  and  nephew  of  his  royal  uncle  of 
Lancaster.  Besides,  to  refer  to  him  as  'kinges 
brother  sone'  was  not  only  true  to  the  facts, 
but  at  the  same  time  a  delicate  compliment  to 
the  powerful  duke. 

Here,  then,  is  another  allusion  which  could 
scarcely  refer  to  a  time  much  later  than  Rich- 
ard's marriage  in  January,  1382,  and  would  more 
likely  be  thought  of  by  the  poet  when  the  mar- 
riage was  in  every  one's  mind.  It  would  still 
further  strengthen  the  suggestion  that  The 
Knight's  Tale  was  written  about  the  time  of 
Anne's  coming  to  England,  or  at  least  not  long 
after  the  marriage.85 

86  One  might  almost  question  whether  the  tale,  to  which 
Chaucer  gives  the  title  '  Palamon  and  Emelye'  in  the  next 
to  the  last  line,  may  not  have  been  one  of  his  contributions 
to  the  court  festivities  at  the  marriage  of  Richard  and  Anne. 
At  least  the  lines 

"Betwixen  hem  was  maad  anon  the  bond 
That   highte   matrimoigne   or   mariage, 
By  al  the  conseil  and  the  baronage," 
based  only  in  a  general  way  upon  the  Teseide,  would  also 


252  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

To  sum  up  the  discussion  in  relation  to  the 
dating  of  The  Knight's  Tale.  If  the  reference 
in  the  line, 

"To  have  with  certein  contrees  alliaunce," 

can  be  applied  to  the  alliance  of  England  and 
Bohemia,  or  to  that  and  the  other  alliances  con- 
nected with  it,  as  I  think  has  been  sufficiently 
shown  to  be  in  the  highest  degree  probable,  the 
date  of  the  poem  must  have  been  after  May  1, 
1381,  and  more  probably  after  September  1, 
when  the  alliance  was  ratified  by  the  king 
of  Bohemia.    If,  too,  the  allusion, 

"Thanne  semed  me  ther  was  a  parlement 
At  Athenes,  upon  certein  poynts  and  caas," 

refers  to  the  parliament  of  which  Richard  asked 
a  grant  of  money,  on  account  of  his  approaching 
marriage  with  Anne  of  Bohemia,  the  date  of 
this  part  of  The  Knight's  Tale  must  be  between 
November  13,  1381,  and  February  27,  1381-2. 

describe  English  conditions.  Such  a  supposition  as  to  the 
use  of  the  Tale  might  give  special  point  to  the  supplication, 
1)1  need  in  the  present  tense  as  if  more  than  a  device  for  vivid- 
ness, 

"And  God,  that  al  this  wyden  world  hath  wroght, 
Sende  him  his  love,  that  hath  it  dere  aboght." 
M:tythere  not  have  been,  even  here,  some  lurking  suggestion 
of  the  long  series  of  negotiations,  and  the  long  waiting, 
since  the  marriage  with  Anne  had  been  first  proposed? 
( )f  course  this  latter  point  should  not  be  pressed,  and  would 
be  of  no  value  without  the  more  important  lines  already 
noted. 


THE  DATE  OF  THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE       253 

The  latter  part  of  this  time,  or  more  especially 
that  after  December  18,  would  exactly  suit  the 
time  of  the  allusion  in  the  line, 

"And  of  the  tempest  at  hir  hoom  cominge, 

if  Professor  Lowes  is  right  in  referring  that  line 
to  the  storm,  or  tidal  disturbance  at  Anne's 
arrival  in  December.  If,  as  he  also  thinks, 
the  line  immediately  preceding, 

"And  of  the  feste  that  was  at  hir  weddynge," 

may  refer  to  the  feast  at  the  marriage  of  Richard 
and  Anne,  the  time  need  not  be  carried  forward 
beyond  the  latter  part  of  January,  or  the  month 
of  February.  There  is,  also,  perhaps,  some 
confirmation  of  the  date  in  the  description  of 
Palamon  in  language  that  would  be  certainly 
true  of  Richard, 

"He  is  a  kinges  brother  sone,  pardee." 

In  other  words,  all  these  allusions  would  fall 
'within  the  current  year  1381,  as  the  year  was 
then  reckoned.  They  would  also  help  to  con- 
firm the  apparent  reference  in  another  part  of 
the  poem  to  May  of  that  year,  as  shown  to  be 
possible  by  Professor  Skeat  many  years  ago. 

Perhaps,  from  the  discussion,  it  will  not  seem 
wrong  to  go  one  step  further.  Even  if  the  com- 
putation of  Professor  Skeat  is  not  accepted, 
or  there  be  hesitancy  in  agreeing  with  the  con- 
clusions of  Professor  Lowes,  the  more  signifi- 


254  OLIVER  F.  EMERSON 

cant  allusion  to  the  great  English-German 
alliance  and  the  parliament  in  which  it  was 
surely  discussed  is  sufficient  to  establish  the 
last  part  of  1381,  or  the  first  months  of  1382, 
as  the  certain  date  for  the  composition  of 
Chaucer's  Knight's  Tale. 


OLD  ENGLISH  MODIFICATION  OF 
TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS 

BY  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE,  PH.D. 

It  is  difficult  for  an  Anglo-Saxon  to  deal  for 
any  length  of  time  with  our  racial  epic,  Beowulf, 
without  becoming  greatly  interested  in  the 
indications  it  contains  of  certain  conceptions 
common  to  the  whole  ancient  Teutonic  race, 
conceptions  which,  transplanted  through  Low 
German  invasion  to  the  British  Isles,  under- 
went very  definite  development  or  modifica- 
tion. I  shall,  in  this  brief  study,  endeavor  to 
trace  as  far  as  the  year  1066  the  evolution  of 
some  of  these  conceptions  as  they  flourished 
on  English  soil. 

Three  lines  of  tendency,  marking  respectively 
the  development  of  the  political,  the  scientific, 
the  religious  ideas,  will  claim  our  attention. 
The  first  of  these  tendencies  manifests  itself 
in  distinct  indications  in  Beowulf  of  the  atti- 
tude toward  two  dependent  classes,  women  and 
criminals.  In  regard  to  both,  the  evolution  of 
sentiment  between  449  and  1066  is  extremely 
interesting. 

Women  are  mentioned  in  Beowulf  about  fif- 


256  CHRISTABEL  F.  F1SKE 

teen  times.  Three  references  are  merely  general 
and  casual.1  Hildeburh2  and  the  widow  of 
Beowulf3  stand  strikingly  before  us,  chief  wail- 
ing figures  in  the  sorrowful  groups  mourning 
at  roaring  funeral-pyres  the  fall  of  the  mighty 
dead.  We  have,  also,  Hygd  drawn  as  the  grace- 
ful, lavish  young  mistress  of  Hygelac's  castle.4 
Wealtheow,  Hrothgar's  queen,  a  gracious,  noble 
figure,  moves  gold-adorned  among  the  war- 
riors at  the  feast.5  Her  attitude  is  free  and  proud, 
and  she  openly  advises  her  royal  husband. 
As  in  the  funeral  ceremonies,  so  here  her  innate 
force  has  given  woman  a  quasi-official  position. 
Wealtheow  it  is  who,  advancing  to  the  centre 
of  the  hall,  formally  recognizes  Beowulf  as  cham- 
pion of  her  people,  and  receives  his  oath  of 
fidelity.6  She  it  is  who  rewards  him  for  his 
service  with  the  wonderful  necklace,  most 
princely  of  state  treasures.7 

The  innate  force  of  the  Teutonic  woman 
rendered  her  conspicuous  not  only  in  social 
ceremonies  and  feasts.  While  her  lord  was  at 
war  she  performed  as  important  economic 
functions  as  did  the  medieval  woman  at  the 
time  of  the  Crusades.     Upon  her  devolved  the 

1  Beo.,  993,  941,  1282,  1283. 

2  Ibid.,  1114. 

3  Ibid.,  3150. 
*Ib;<l..   L926-1931. 

B  Ibid.,  612,  619,  1177-1180. 
'  I  hid.,  628. 
7  Ibid.,  1210. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         257 

ultimate  responsibility  for  all  important  decis- 
ions connected  with  home-affairs.  We  see  this 
plainly  in  the  case  of  Hygd,8  who,  when  her 
lord  was  defeated  and  killed,  at  once  offered  to 
Beowulf  the  kingship,  passing  over,  for  political 
reasons,  her  own  son.9  Both  Hygd,  Wealtheow, 
and  their  humbler  sisters  superintended  or  per- 
formed the  spinning  and  weaving,  directed  the 
agricultural  labors  of  the  estate,10  and  furnished 
the  mainspring  upon  which  depended  the  orderly 
ongoing  of  the  family  fortunes  at  home.  Yet 
another  circumstance  contributed  to  dignify  the 
position  of  Teutonic  woman.  From  earliest 
times  there  was  attached  to  her  a  certain  sacred 
quality  springing  from  universal  belief  in  her 
faculty  for  prophecy,  divination,  and  religious 
ecstasy.11  So  highly  did  the  Germans  value 
this  supposed  spiritual  endowment  that  their 
enemies  early  learned  to  demand,  as  most 
precious  hostages,  girls  instead  of  boys.12  We 
get  a  vivid  impression  of  this  traditional  view 
in  the  weird  glimpse  of  Beowulf's  widow,  who, 
as  the  funeral  flames  rose  round  her  dead  hero, 
burst  into  a  wailing  prophecy  of  personal  and 
tribal  calamity.13 

8  Ibid.,  2369-2372. 

9  H.  Munro  Chadwick :  The  Origin  of  the  English  Nation, 
p.  163. 

10Lippert:  Die   Religion   d.    europ.    Culturvolker,    p.    36, 
cited  by  Gummere,  Germanic  Origins,  p.   129. 
"Tacitus:  Germania,  ch.  8. 

12  Tacitus:  Germania,  ch.  8;  Suetonius,  Augustus,  ch.  21. 

13  Beo.,  3150-3156. 


258  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

But  though  thus  distinguished  by  a  certain 
social  prominence  due  to  her  innate  capacity 
for  executive  achievement  and  for  passionate 
emotion,  we  still  have  hints  in  Beowulf  of  her 
complete  legal  dependence.  We  see  one  maiden 
given  in  marriage  to  the  heir  of  a  hostile  clan 
in  vain  endeavor  to  secure  peaceful  relations,14 
while  another  goes,  along  with  a  hundred  thou- 
sand pieces'  worth  of  land,  and  linked  rings,  as  a 
reward  for  victorious  valor.15  Indeed,  in  the 
light  of  these  instances,  the  beautiful  epithet 
freothu-webbe,16  "peace-weaver,"  applied  to  her 
at  various  times,  is,  in  one  aspect,  only  indica- 
tive of  her  absolute  political  dependence. 

We  have  said  that  there  occur  in  Beowulf 
two  distinct  instances  of  the  maBgth's,  or  clan's, 
dealing  with  its  daughters.  Of  the  close  bond 
existing  between  various  members  of  the  msegth 
we  have  an  interesting  glimpse,  in  Beowulf, 
through  Wiglaf's  passionate  denunciation  of 
Beowulf's  coward-thanes,  whose  kinsmen,  as 
well  as  they  themselves,  must  suffer  outlawry.17 
Even  the  child  in  the  cradle,  we  learn  from  one  of 
Cnut's  laws,  was,  in  primitive  times,  responsible 
along  with  the  whole  maegth  for  the  crime  of  one 
of  its  kinsmen.18    And  what  was  the  relation  of 

14  Ibid.,  2021  ff. 
16  Ibid.,  2994-2999. 

16  Ibid.,  1942. 

17  Ibid.,  2884-2891. 

18  LI.  Cnut.  77,  p.  180,  Thorpe;  Schmid,  312,  76,  §2,  cited 
by  Gummere,  Germanic  Origins,  p.  168. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         259 

the  woman  to  this  closely-organized  group  of 
kindred?  The  fundamental  fact  is  that  out  of 
this  group  she  never  passed  even  on  her  mar- 
riage. Her  own  msegth  merely  handed  over  the 
guardianship  of  the  wife  to  her  husband,  main- 
taining, however,  a  close  watch  of  the  husband 
in  order  to  interfere,  if  necessary,  in  the  wife's 
interest.  If  a  woman  committed  a  crime,  it 
was  her  msegth  that  paid  the  wergeld;  if  she 
was  killed,  the  wergeld  was  paid  to  her  msegth 
and  not  to  her  husband.19  In  fact,  she  owed  to 
her  msegth,  as  to  her  supreme  guardian,  a  whole 
set  of  legal  and  social  obligations.  This  con- 
ception of  family-relationship  demonstrates  em- 
phatically the  Teutons'  keen  sense  of  the  pre- 
cedency of  the  blood-bonds  to  which  one  is  born 
over  the  ties  created  by  marriage.  We  get  ample 
evidence  of  the  vivid  realization  by  the  women 
themselves  of  the  imperious  nature  of  these 
blood-bonds.  In  Scandinavian  saga,  we  see 
Gudrun  blunted  even  in  her  maternal  instinct 
by  her  passionate  devotion  to  her  brothers; 
and  in  Beowulf  when,  after  the  tragic  Finn- 
episode,  Hildeburh20  is  borne  back  to  her  own 
people,  it  is  not  as  a  wretched  victim  of  parental 
tyranny,  but  as  a  proud  daughter  of  the  house, 

19  LI.  Hen.  75,  8;  70,  12.  Thorpe,  pp.  253,  250;  cited  by 
Ernest  Young:  "The  Anglo-Saxon  Family  Law."  (In 
Essays  on  Anglo-Saxon  Law,  by  Henry  Adams  and  others, 
pp.  123-4.) 

20  Beo.,  1155-1157. 


200  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

whose  sympathies  are  with  her  slaughtered 
kinsmen,  who  rejoices  in  the  vengeance  visited 
upon  her  husband,  and  who  returns  triumphant 
in  the  final  vindication  of  the  family  honor. 
If  Hildeburh  returned  triumphant,  however, 
she  yet  returned  the  chattel  and  slave  of  her 
kindred,  to  be  disposed  of  again  in  marriage  as 
they  saw  fit.  And  what  were  her  rights  there  in 
the  home-clan?  Her  position  is  indicated  by 
the  following  significant  facts.  She  might 
neither  inherit  nor  own  land;21  she  was  sold  to 
her  husband  irrespective  of  her  own  will;22  she 
might  be  sold  by  her  father  into  a  sort  of  miti- 
gated serfdom;23  only  by  means  of  a  representa- 
tive could  she  appear  in  court.24 

To  summarize  briefly,  then,  the  position  of 
women  as  it  appears  in  our  old  epic:  They 
appear  to  have  had  the  social  prominence  and 
dignity  which  have  always  more  or  less  marked 

'inan  in  Anglo-Saxon  communities,  joined 
to  a  complete  legal  dependence  from  which 
they  are  not  even  yet  completely  emancipated. 
That  is,  the  social  deference  that  marks  the 
attitude  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  man  toward  the 

21  Lex.  Sal.  62,  6  apud  Grimm,  R.  A.  407;  cited  by  Gum- 
mere,  Germanic  Origins,  p.  131. 

-"-'  Schmid,  p.  8;  cited  by  Gummere,  Germanic  Origins, 
p.  152. 

23  LI.  Alfred.;  12.    Thorpe,  p.  21. 

24  Ernest  Young:  "The  Anglo-Saxon  Family  Law."  (In 
Essays  on  Anglo-Saxon  Law,  by  Henry  Adams  and  others, 
p.  163.) 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS  261 

other  sex  seems  a  survival  of  an  ancient  racial 
instinct  which,  among  other  branches  of  the  Teu- 
tonic family,  has  been  more  or  less  obscured; 
while  in  common  with  her  sex  among  all  races, 
the  Anglo-Saxon  woman  has  bad  to  fight  her 
way  toward  any  legal  independence  she  has 
achieved.  The  first  steps  in  this  struggle  it 
may  be  interesting  to  notice. 

It  is  in  regard  to  property  rights  that  amel- 
ioration in  woman's  position  first  began  to 
make  itself  felt.  There  is  a  runic  inscription  of 
ancient  Norway  speaking  of  male  and  female 
heirs.25  As  time  went  on  in  England,  while  the 
property-rights  of  unmarried  women  continued 
to  be  ignored,  those  of  wives  and  widows 
gained  more  and  more  recognition,  until  finally 
those  of  the  latter  were  guarded  with  quite 
modern  care;26  while  the  woman  whose  husband 
still  lived  could  possess  a  storeroom,  chest,  and 
cupboard  which  he  could  only  open  by  permis- 
sion.27 While  these  steps  do  not  indicate  much 
advance,  since  woman  gained  recognition  in  the 
eyes  of  the  law  only  through  economic  con- 

25  Noreen's  Altisland.  und  Allnorw.  Grammatik ,  p.  189  f., 
and  references  there  given;  cited  by  Gummere,  Germanic 
Origins,  p.  131. 

26  LI.  ^Ethelbert.,  s.  81,  Thorpe,  i,  25;  LI.  Henrici  Primi, 
s.  xx,  Thorpe,  i,  574;  LI.  Ripuar.,  tit.  37;  cited  by  Thrupp, 
The  Anglo-Saxon  Home,  p.  69. 

27  LI.  Cnut.;  Thorpe  (ed.  1840), p.  180;  the  fact  is  mentioned 
by  Thrupp,  The  Anglo-Saxon  Home,  p. 69,  but  the  reference 
to  the  laws  is  not  given. 


262  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

siderations  based  on  the  conjugal  relation,  not 
by  virtue  of  inherent  right,  yet  they  are  of 
some  significance  in  marking  the  evolution  of 
the  social  sense. 

The  second  point  which  we  noted  as  an  indica- 
tion of  the  legal  dependence  of  woman  among 
the  Teutons  was  her  liability  to  be  sold  to  what- 
ever husband  her  clan  dictated.  This  custom 
the  Anglo-Saxons  brought  with  them  to  Eng- 
land.28 Slowly,  however,  sentiment  changed 
and,  five  centuries  later,  under  Cnut,  we  have 
this  sentiment  crystalized  in  the  law  which 
says  that  "neither  woman  nor  maid  shall  be 
forced  to  marry  one  that  is  disliked  by  her,  nor 
shall  she  be  sold  for  money  unless  the  bride- 
groom gives  something  of  his  own  free  accord."29 
Able  at  last  to  marry  the  man  of  her  choice, 
she  could  also,  toward  the  end  of  the  Old 
English  period,  protect  herself  against  the 
whim  and  inconstancy  of  her  lord.  Previously 
repudiated  by  him  at  will  for  trivial  reasons, 
she  now  could  legally  resist  and  prevent  such 
repudiation.30  In  such  a  case,  as  in  all  cases, 
she  had,  also,  acquired  another  right,  the  lack  of 
which  was  one  of  the  marks  we  noted  of  her  pre- 

28  LI.  jEthelbert.,  82,  83,  Thorpe  (ed.  1840),  p.  10.  LI. 
of  Ine  31,  Thorpe  (ed.  1840),  p.  53. 

29  LI.  Cnut.,  75,  Thorpe  (ed.  1840),  p.  179;  Schmid,  p.  312, 
No.  74;  cited  by  Gummere,  Germanic  Origins,  p.  152. 

30  Arch.  Theod.  Canons,  A.  D.  673,  s.  10,  and  Bede's  Ec- 
cles.  Hist.,  Bk.  iv.  c.  5;  cited  by  John  Thrupp,  The  Anglo- 
Saxon  Home,  p.  64. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         263 

vious  legal  dependence — the  right  of  suing 
in  her  own  name  in  courts  of  justice.31  She 
had  in  fact,  by  1066,  acquired  in  the  eyes  of  the 
law  a  distinct  degree  of  personality. 

The  second  dependent  class  in  the  community 
of  which  we  have  distinct  mention  in  Beowulf  is 
the  criminal  class.  In  two  places  we  have  defi- 
nite reference  to  primitive  methods  of  punish- 
ment: first,  punishment  of  murder,  where 
Hrothgar  is  represented  in  one  case  as  paying 
the  wergeld  to  the  tribe  of  the  Wylfings  for  a 
man  whom  Beowulf's  father  had  killed;32  and, 
in  another  case,  to  Beowulf  for  Grendel's  vic- 
tims ;33  second,  punishment  for  desertion,  when 
the  awful  sentence  of  outlawry  is  passed  on 
Beowulf's  cowardly  retainers.34  By  outlawry 
is  meant,  of  course,  the  desperate  condition  in 
which  the  guilty  man  found  himself  when  pub- 
lic sentiment  had  placed  him  outside  the  pale 
of  humanity  to  be  killed  at  sight  like  a  beast 
by  the  injured  man  or  his  sympathizers.  We 
have  also  mention  of  the  arrogant  spirit  of 
Grendel,  who  "  would  not  compound  for  tri- 
bute" nor  "give  the  senators  worthy  compen- 
sation" for  those  he  murdered.36  We  have  here, 
then,  two  ancient  methods  of  punishment  dis- 

31  Thrupp,  p.  71. 

32J3eo.,470. 

33  Ibid.,  1054. 

3476uL,2884. 

38  Ibid.,  15-6  (Earle's  translation). 


264  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

tinetly  represented.  As  time  passed  on,  how  did 
evolving  legal  opinion  mitigate  or  modify  these 
methods? 

The  ancient  Teutonic  idea  was  that  the 
responsibility  for  the  safety  of  man's  life  or 
property  lay  wholly  in  his  own  hands;  and  also 
that  the  punishment  of  any  infringement  of 
his  rights  to  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness  lay  wholly  and  justly  in  his  own 
hands.  According  to  modern  ideas,  the  per- 
sonality of  the  injured  man  is,  in  a  sense,  lost 
in  the  larger  idea  of  the  injured  state,  whose 
provisions  for  his  safety  have  been  frustrated 
by  the  criminal.  The  state,  which  has  aimed  to 
protect,  alone  has  the  right  to  punish.  Thus, 
according  to  modern  conception,  the  treatment 
of  the  criminal  is  entrusted  to  a  person,  or  set 
of  persons,  who,  though  representing  injured 
civic  dignity,  are  nevertheless  suffering  directly 
neither  in  their  persons  nor  in  their  property 
from  the  crime  committed,  and  who,  therefore, 
in  the  infliction  of  penalty,  are  actuated  by  no 
feelings  of  anger  or  of  personal  desire  for  revenge. 
There  is  a  yet  more  modern  sentiment  than  this, 
which  makes  the  primary  thought  prompting 
the  treatment  of  the  convicted  man,  not  that 
of  his  punishment,  but  that  of  his  reformation 
into  a  healthful  social  factor.  It  may  be  inter- 
estingto  see  how  far  alongthe  road  towards  mod- 
ern penology  the  Anglo-Saxon  had  advanced  by 
1066. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         265 

We  have  said  that,  in  primitive  times,  the 
pursuit  of  the  criminal  lay  wholly  in  the  hands 
of  injured  individuals.  The  first  evolutionary 
step  towards  the  conception  of  the  king  as  the 
person  transgressed  against,  was  when  the  folk 
courts  decided  that  the  injured  had  a  right  to 
seize  the  offender,  but  that  power  to  kill  him 
must  be  granted  by  the  court;  or,  if  the  man  in 
a  fit  of  uncontrollable  anger  killed  his  injurer 
before  getting  permission  of  the  court,  he  must 
justify  himself  before  the  court,  being  most  care- 
ful to  publish  his  deed  far  and  wide.36    We  read, 

If  anyone  kill  another  in  revenge  or  self-defense 
let  him  take  to  himself  none  of  the  goods  of  the  dead, 
neither  his  horse,  nor  helmet,  nor  sword,  nor  any 
money,  but  in  wonted  manner  let  him  arrange  the 
body  of  the  dead,  his  head  to  the  west,  his  feet  to  the 
east,  upon  his  shield,  if  he  it  have,  and  let  him  drive 
deep  his  lance  and  there  hang  his  arms,  and  to  it  rein 
his  steed;  and  let  him  to  go  to  the  nearest  vill,  and 
to  him  whom  he  shall  first  meet,  as  well  as  to  him 
who  is  his  socn,  let  him  declare  it ;  that  he  may  have 
proof  and  make  defence  against  his  foe's  kinsmen 
and  friends.37 

The  next  great  step  forward  was  taken  when 
money-payment  was  accepted  by  the  injured 
man  or  his  kinsmen  in  atonement  for  offences 

36  LI.  Edw.  and  Cuth.  6,  Thorpe  (ed.  1840),  p.  73;  cited 
by  J.  Lawrence  Laughlin:  "  The  Anglo-Saxon  Legal  Proce- 
dure." (In  Essays  on  Anglo-Saxon  Law,  by  Henry  Adams 
and  others,  p.  264.) 

37  LI.  Henr.  83,  6,  Thorpe  (ed.  1840),  p.  258,  cited  by  Laugh- 
lin, op.  cit.,  p.  256. 


266  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

which,  before,  had  rendered  the  criminal  liable 
to  outlawry.38    We  read, 

First,  according  to  folkright,  ought  the  slayer  to 
give  pledge  to  the  kindred  of  the  slain  that  he  shall 
make  them  full  satisfaction.  Then  should  security 
be  given  that  the  slayer  may  draw  nigh  in  peace,  and 
himself  give  pledge  for  the  wer.  After  this  shall 
have  been  done,  let  the  peace  of  the  king  be  raised 
between  them.39 

Hitherto,  the  attitude  of  the  court  in  form- 
ally authorizing  the  injured  person  to  kill  the 
criminal  or,  later,  to  force  him  to  money-pay- 
ment, had  not  been  at  all  that  of  an  impersonal 
judge  of  the  criminal,  but  that  of  a  susceptible 
and  active  sympathizer,  who  merely  conveyed 
to  the  injured  man  the  eager  consent  of  the  com- 
munity to  his  own  private  revenge.  It  happens, 
however,  that  there  did  exist  from  the  earliest 
times  one  class  of  offences, — especially  shameful 
ones  calculated  to  rouse  rather  cold  contempt 
than  the  active  impulse  to  lynch  at  sight, — 
towards  which  the  state  had  assumed,  apparent- 
ly from  the  earliest  times,  the  former  attitude,40 
that  of  impersonal  judge  and  passionless  inflic- 
ter  upon  the  offender  of  carefully  discriminated 
punishment.  Gradually  this  theory  prevailed; 
and  as  rational  ideas  gained  greater  sway,  and 
government   grew   more   centralized,   it   came 

S8Gummere:    Germanic  Origins,  p.  178. 
89  LI.  Edmund.  11.  7,  Thorpe  (ed.  1840),  p.  107;  cited  by 
Laughlin,  op.  cit.,  p.  269. 
40  Tacitus:    Germania,  ch.  12. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         267 

to  be  more  and  more  the  custom  in  offences  of 
every  nature  and  of  every  degree  of  heinousness, 
for  the  injured  person  not  to  lynch  or  mulct  the 
offender,  either  summarily  or  with  sympathetic 
permission  of  the  court,  but  to  hand  him  over 
to  the  court  to  be  dealt  with  as  it  saw  fit.41  Judi- 
cial procedure  had,  at  last,  passed  out  of  private 
hands  and  become  a  function,  of  the  state. 

We  have,  then,  traced  roughly  the  evolution 
of  sentiment  along  this  line:  in  the  beginning, 
irresponsible  private  vengeance;  next,  passion- 
ate judicial  consent  to  such  private  vengeance; 
next,  the  gradual  triumph  of  the  more  merciful 
system  of  money  payment  over  that  of  outlawry ; 
and,  lastly,  the  handing  over  to  the  state,  as 
to  a  discriminating  judge,  not  a  passion-blinded 
partisan,  of  the  judgment  of  the  criminal.  In 
short,  the  Anglo-Saxons,  during  the  Anglo-Saxon 
period,  had  progressed  so  far  as  to  fix  firmly  in 
their  law  the  Theory  of  True  Punishment.  We 
know  how  awful  this  theory  proved  in  practice 
in  medieval  and  early  modern  times,  when, 
under  color  of  justice,  the  most  frightful  judi- 
cial cruelties  were  practised  upon  unhappy  pris- 
oners. Our  point,  however,  is  that  this  theory 
is,  in  itself,  immensely  in  advance  of  the  lynch- 
law  practice  that  prevailed  before  its  adoption, 
and  that  it  represents  one  of  the  elements  in 
the  science  of  modern  penology. 

41  Laughlin:  op.  cit.,  p.  274. 


268  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

We  pass  from  this  survey  of  the  development 
of  social  sentiment  to  the  region  of  scientific 
thought.  Some  incipient  stirring  of  the  investi- 
gating spirit  we  can  trace  in  our  old  epic.  We 
find  manifest  interest  in  the  genesis  of  various 
mechanical  contrivances, —  "guthbyrne  heard 
hond-locen";i2  ' ( dum  fyr-bendum  faest";i3  "fela 
ldfe";ii"homera  ldfe";A6 "  searo-net  seowed  smithes 
ortliancum" ;M  "fela  lafe  scur  heard" ;47 " ecg  waes 
fren  ater-tearum  fah,  ahyrded  heatho-swate";48 
all  these  expressions  and  others,  many  of  them 
inserted  quite  inappositely,  bear  witness  to  their 
eager  and  instinctive  curiosity  concerning  hu- 
man invention.  Other  evidence  we  also  have  of 
this  embryonic  intellectual  inquisitiveness.  In 
a  sense,  as  has  been  more  or  less  clearly  recog- 
nized, the  magician  was,  among  primitive  peo- 
ples, a  veritable  man  of  science,  because  by  his 
operations,  carried  on  afttr  careful  study  of  nat- 
ural phenomena,  he  tried  to  imitate  Nature's 
processes.49  The  invincible  swords  in  Beowulf, 60 
the    golden    standard,    "  greatest    marvel    of 


**Beo.,  321-2. 
"Ibid.,  721-2. 

4476td.,1032. 
"Ibid.,  2829. 
™Ibid.,  405-6. 
"Ibid.,  1033. 
"Ibid.,  1459. 

49  Encyclopedia  Britannica:    Article  "Alchemy"  by  Jules 
Andrieu. 
*0Beo.,  2768-2770. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         269 

handicraft,  woven  with  arts  of  incantation1'51 
so  that  it  shed  mellow  radiance  thro'  the 
dark  barrow,  Beowulf's  foamy-necked  ship, 
carrying  him  with  incredible  swiftness  to  his 
destination,52  Heorot,"  greatest  of  hall-houses," 
rising  with  a  silent  swiftness  suggesting  giant 
workmanship,53 — all  these  may  well  have  been 
dreams  potent  as  that  of  the  philosopher's 
stone  to  move  eager,  primitive  craftsmen, — 
prototypes  of  the  wondersmiths54  of  Beowulf, 
— to  patient  labor  for  the  development  of  the 
finer  metals,  for  more  effective  mechanical  con- 
trivance. This  perennial  longing  of  the  human 
mind  for  stimulating  discovery  and  invention 
the  scientist  of  the  twentieth  century  strives 
to  satisfy  by  working  with  splendid  audacity 
upon  the  basis  of  principles  vindicated  by  cen- 
turies of  labor  and  accomplishment.  With 
equal  audacity  the  scientist  of  the  sixth  century, 
ignorant  of  natural  law,  turned,  for  a  basis  for 
his  work,  to  the  contemplation  of  certain 
occult,  spiritual  phenomena  or  agencies,  striv- 
ing to  establish  between  them,  and  matter  or- 
ganic or  inorganic,  a  relation  of  Cause  and 
Effect, — which  process,  with  its  resultant  activi- 
ties, we  now  call  Magic. 

We  find,  then,  in  Beowulf,  hints  of  the  faintly- 

61  Ibid.,  2767-2771  (Earle's  Translation). 

62  Ibid.,  217-223,  1908-1912. 

63  Ibid.,  76-78. 
6iIbid.,  1682. 


270  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

dawning  spirit  of  investigation  exercising  itself 
upon  the  material  universe  in  reference  to  its 
origins,  qualities,  and  capabilities:  first,  in 
primitive  but  perfectly  sound  and  practical 
mechanical  achievement,  such  as  chain-armor, 
door-hinges,  and  tempered  weapons;  secondly, 
in  wild  experiment  based  upon  a  series  of 
false  hypotheses  and  deductions.  And  because 
in  the  practice  of  medicine  in  England  before 
1066  we  have  the  most  significant  blending  of 
common  sense  and  vagary,  I  have  chosen  it  to 
illustrate  the  scientific  development  of  the 
period.  In  other  words,  upon  the  human  body, 
as  upon  other  materials,  the  Old  English  exer- 
cised their  faculties  both  of  discrimination  and 
observation  and  of  credulous  self-delusion. 
In  Beowulf  the  strength  of  the  human  body 
could  be  impaired  by  the  evil  eye,55  or  enhanced 
thirty-fold  by  divine  inheritance.56  And  in  the 
history  of  the  Old  English  medical  school  we 
find  its  really  sound  though  simple  conceptions 
mixed  with  superstitions  as  strange  and  pal- 
pable. 

We  will  deal  first  with  the  results  achieved  in 
the  realms  of  reason  and  common  sense.  Like 
all  primitive  medical  theory,  that  of  the  Old 
English  was  based  upon  the  healing  properties 
of  herbs.  This  necessitated  a  thorough  canvas 
of  field  and  wood;  and  it  is  interesting  to  dis- 

"Ibid.,  1766-1767. 

48  Ibid.,  379-380,  2359-61. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         271 

cover,  from  the  evidence  supplied  by  old  leech- 
books,  by  English  and  Latin  glossaries,  and 
by  Old  English  plant-lists,  that  the  Old  Eng- 
lish had  been  eminently  successful  in  identi- 
fying and  in  listing  very  large  numbers  of  Eng- 
lish plants.57  Beyond  this,  they  had,  besides 
studying  individual  species,  begun  comparing 
plants  one  with  another,  not  in  order  to  discover 
fundamental  relationships,  though  this  is  what 
it  ultimately  led  to,  but  as  a  crude  method  of 
description,  namely,  by  comparing  the  specimen 
in  question  with  some  well-known  plant.58 

In  addition  to  this  knowledge  of  the  external 
appearance  and  structure  of  plants  the  Eng- 
lish had  also,  by  1066,  gained  genuine  knowledge 
of  their  remedial  properties.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  there  did  exist  in  this  herbal  medicine  a 
very  real  though  very  simple  art  of  healing.  It 
has  been  proved  that  the  following  prescription 
is  an  effective  ointment  for  wounds:59  "Take 
yarrow  and  the  nether  part  of  woodruff,  fell- 
more  and  the  nether  part  of  sigelhwerf;  boil  in 
good  butter,  draw  through  a  cloth  and  let  stand." 
An  English  blacksmith  of  Teddington  in  the 
middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  speedily  cured 
an  injured  finger  by  an  application  of  a  root 
called  comfrey,  a  standard  remedy  of  the  sixth 

67  J.   F.   Payne :    English  Medicine  in  the  Anglo-Saxon 
Times,  p.  81. 

68  J   Earle:    English  Plant  Names,  Introduction,  p.  xvii. 

69  J.  F.  Payne:    op.  cit.,  p.  86. 


272  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

century.60  Many  other  effective  household 
remedies  are  scattered  through  these  old  leech- 
books. 

Nor  was  the  medical  practice  confined  to  the 
administration  of  herbs.  They  had  evidently 
thought  considerably  on  the  subject  of  diet, 
and  some  of  their  recommendations  are  cur- 
iously in  keeping  with  modern  theory.  It  is 
interesting  to  find  "many  hen's  eggs  beaten  up 
into  a  vessel  all  raw"  recommended  for  tu- 
berculosis.61 The  food-regimen  prescribed  for 
abdominal  indigestion62  as  well  as  for  abdominal 
inflammation63  was  judicious,  while  there  are 
elements  of  sense  in  that  prescribed  for  the 
liver.64  For  diabetes,  too,  the  diet  was  reason- 
ably ordered.65 

The  Old  English  also  prescribed  baths  of  vari- 
ous sorts  with  more  or  less  frequency.  These  are 
sometimes  cool  baths  of " fresh  sweet  water";66 
sometimes,  they  are  heated  by  means  of  hot 
stones;67  sometimes  they  are  elaborately  medi- 

60  Leechdoms,  Wortcunning,  and  Starcraft,  ed.  Cockayne, 
i.  p.  liii. 

61  Ibid.,  ii.  264. 

62  Ibid.,  i.  226-232. 

63  Ibid.,  ii.  196. 
"Ibid.,  ii.  210-216. 

is  Ibid.,  ii.  88-90.  This  information  was  furnished  me  by  a 
physician  of  unquestionable  standing,  who  also  vouched  for 
the  three  preceding  statements  after  rejecting  as  nonsense 
several  of  the  other  diet-prescriptions  I  submitted  to  him. 

"Ibid.,  ii.  195. 

•7  Ibid.,  ii.  107. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         273 

cated  with  herbs.68  Vapor  baths  are  also  pre- 
scribed.69 Among  all  these  it  is  probable  that 
only  the  vapor-baths,  prescribed  usually  for 
skin  diseases  or  abdominal  trouble,70  were  of 
positive  remedial  value. 

So  much  for  the  positive  accomplishment  of 
the  Old  English  medical  school.  Slight  as  it  is, 
it  may  yet  seem  less  trivial  if  we  glance  at  the 
mass  of  superstition  out  of  which  it  was  work- 
ing its  way  towards  rational  conceptions. 

We  have  spoken  of  a  magician  as  a  man  who 
attempted  to  establish  the  relation  of  cause  and 
effect  between  certain  occult  powers  as  agents, 
and  the  material  universe.  And  how  did  this 
conception  apply  specifically  to  the  human  body 
as  part  of  the  material  universe? 

The  early  Teutonic  ideas  in  this  matter  agree 
with  those  of  Pythagoras,  the  founder  of  the 
healing  art  among  the  Greeks.  He  believed  that 
through  the  air  floated  hosts  of  spiritual  beings 
who  inflict  upon  mankind  diseases.71  The  ma- 
lign intention  of  evil  spirits  is,  then,  the  cause 
of  any  disturbance  of  healthful  equilibrium. 
This  belief  accompanied  the  Anglo-Saxons  to 
England.  We  have  had  endless  instances  to 
prove  the  point  in  the  very  wording  of  our  old 
prescriptions.     Some  of  them  are  to  be  taken 

68  Ibid.,  ii.  323. 
«*Ibid.,  ii.  341. 

70  Ibid.,  ii.  341. 

71  Ibid.,  i.  p.  xiii. 


274  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

for  "devil-sickness";72  or  for  "elf-hicket";73  or 
for  "water-elf  disease";74  or  in  order  "to  do 
away  a  dwarf"75  (namely,  convulsions) .  That  is, 
they  were  as  sure  of  vicious  attacks  by  evil 
spirits  as  they  were  of  bites  of  mad  dogs76  or  of 
snakes.77 

There  were  three  ways  of  meeting  the  results 
of  supernatural  malice :  first,  by  utilizing  for  the 
organs  affected  the  actually  remedial  qualities 
of  herbs;  second,  by  applying  to  the  sick  man's 
body  objects  such  as  plants,  or  parts  of  animals, 
gems,  minerals,  etc.,  to  which  certain  myster- 
ious powers  were  attributed;78  third,  by  bully- 
ing the  evil  spirits  by  incantations  or  bribing 
them  with  gifts  into  ceasing  their  persecutions.79 
The  first  method  is  reasonable  and  practical. 
The  last  two  constitute  the  magical  element  in 
the  practice  of  the  early  physician. 

We  have  observed  the  achievement  made  in 
medicine  during  the  Old  English  period  in  so 
far  as  its  operations  were  based  upon  observa- 
tion and  common  sense.  As  far  as  the  magic 
element  is  concerned,  the  attitude  of  the  Old 
English  doctor  remained  unchanged.      In  1066, 

72  Ibid.,  ii.  249. 
"Ibid.,  ii.  349. 
74  Ibid.,  ii.  345. 
"Ibid.,  i.  365. 
"Ibid.,  i.  149. 

77  Ibid.,  i.  175. 

78  J.  F.  Payne:    op.  cit.,  p.  115. 

73  Cockayne:  op.  cit.,  i.  p.  xiii. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         275 

as  in  449,  he  was  still  trusting  to  amulets  such 
as  stones80  and  foxes'  teeth.81  In  the  incanta- 
tions against  evil  spirits  he  had,  it  is  true,  sub- 
stituted, instead  of  such  unintelligible  jargon  as 
"Mei,  threu,  moe,  phor,  teux,  za,  zon,  the,  lu, 
chri,  ge,  ze,  on,"82  Christian  expressions  like 
"Shout,  the  Lord  God  is  my  shield!  Oh!  the 
ineffable  name!"83  or  "Benedicite  omnia  opera 
domini,  dominum!"84  But  the  spirit  in  which 
these  formulas  were  uttered  was  obviously  un- 
altered. 

We  turn  now  to  consideration  of  the  hints  in 
Beowulf  of  the  Teutonic  Pantheon,  and  to  the 
ultimate  fate  in  England  of  these  vaguely  re- 
flected gods.  These  indications  are  of  three 
kinds:  first,  direct  reference  to  the  gods,  either 
by  name  or  by  characteristic  symbols  or  aspects; 
second,  figures  representing  gods  in  various 
stages  of  degeneration;  third,  common  nouns 
concealing  colorlessly  the  names  of  ancient 
deities.85 

The  only  deity  referred  to  by  name  is  the  god- 
dess Wyrd,86  and  even  she  is  fading,  in  various 
places,  into  a  mere  figure  of  speech,  as  where 
the  poet  says  that  God  grants  Beowulf's  people 

80  Ibid.,  ii.  307. 
^Ibid.,  ii.  105. 

82  J.  F.  Payne:    op.  cit.,  p.  107. 

83  Cockayne: op.  cit.,  ii.  67. 
**  Ibid.,  ii.  291. 

88  Beo.,  303,  512,  1427. 
86  Ibid.,  455. 


27G  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

"the  web  of  victory";87  or  into  the  generalized 
abstraction  we  call  fate.88  This  obliteration  of 
outline  has  in  fact  proceeded  so  far  in  our  poem 
that  her  influence  seems  rather  that  of  a  vast 
impersonal  force,  like  the  sullen  northern  sea, 
than  of  an  active,  self-conscious  agent. 

This  process  of  obliteration,  so  actively  begun 
in  Beowulf,  continued  until  the  final  position 
of  Wyrd  under  the  Christian  regime  is  interest- 
ing to  contemplate.  Originally  too  powerful 
and  portentous  to  be  utterly  degraded  or  lost, 
she  was  finally  transformed  into  the  instru- 
ment of  the  Christian  God  in  working  out  his 
designs  among  men.  I  quote  the  words  of 
Boethius,  whose  works  became  so  popular  among 
Anglo-Saxon  churchmen,  and  in  whom  we  find 
the  classical  exposition  of  this  idea.  "Provi- 
dence is  the  Divine  Reason  in  itself,  seated  in 
the  Supreme  Being  which  disposes  all  things: 
Fate  is  a  disposition  inherent  in  all  things  which 
move  through  Providence,  joining  all  things  in 
their  proper  order.  Providence  embraces  all 
things  however  different,  however  infinite;  Fate 
sets  in  motion  separately  individual  things,  and 
assigns  to  them  severally  their  position,  form, 
and  kind.  So  the  unfolding  of  this  temporal 
order,  unified  into  the  foreview  of  the  Divine 
Mind,  is  Providence,  while  the  same  unity  brok- 
en up  and  unfolded  in  time  is  Fate.     Providence 

87  Ibid.,  697. 

88  Ibid.,  734. 


EUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS  277 

is  the  fixed  and  simple  form  of  destined  events, 
Fate  their  shifting  series  in  order  of  time."  It 
is  startling  to  see  this  picturesque  old  pagan 
goddess  thus  separated  from  a  degenerate  kin- 
dred and  firmly  established  as  a  most  respectable 
factor  in  early  Christian  theology.89 

There  is  also,  as  we  have  said,  indirect  refer- 
ence to  the  Teutonic  Pantheon,  not  by  name, 
but  by  means  of  some  characteristic  symbol  or 
aspect.  To  illustrate  the  first  point.  There 
are  in  Beowulf  various  passages  that  dwell 
especially  upon  the  figures  of  the  boars  adorning 
the  helmet  of  the  hero  and  his  companions. 
"He  bade  them  bring  in  the  headcrest  in  the 
shape  of  a  boar,  the  helmet  high-uplifted  in 
battle."90  "The  graven  boars  shone  over  their 
gold-decked  cheek  guards,  gleaming  and  tem- 
pered in  the  fire.  Grimly  warlike  of  temper, 
the  boar  kept  watch."91  The  god  to  whom  the 
boar  was  sacred  was  Frea,92  and  the  connection 
between  the  military  custom  of  Beowulf 's  men, 
and  the  worship  of  this  god,  is  indubitable. 

This  god  is  again  indirectly  referred  to  in  our 
poem.  We  find  him  there  in  the  aspect  of 
divine  progenitor  of  a  race  of  kings.  In  the 
Finn-episode,   Finn  himself  is  called  the  son 

89  Boethius :    De  Consolatione  Philosophies.     See  J.  Earle, 
Translation  of  Beowulf,  note  to  1. 
S0Beo.,  2152-2155. 

91  Ibid.,  304. 

92  Chantepie  de  la  Saussaye :  The  Religion  of  the  Teutons, 
p.  252. 


278  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

of  Folcwalda.93  Now  as  the  Anglo-Saxon  gene- 
alogies also  supply  Finn  with  an  ancestor 
named  Folcwald,94  and  as  the  Edda  calls  Freyr 
(Frea)  "folkvaldi  g6tha,"95  and  as  in  the  old 
genealogies  again  one  of  the  descendants  of 
Finn  is  called  Freawine,  a  term  kindred  in 
meaning  to  "folkwaldi,"  we  may  naturally  con- 
clude that  the  words  in  Beowulf  refer  to  the  line 
of  Frea.96 

In  yet  a  third  fashion  does  the  image  of  Frea 
haunt  our  poem.  His  very  name,  divested 
of  its  personal  application,  is  colorlessly  applied 
now  to  God  (Frea),97  now  to  a  king  (freawine),98 
now  to  a  crown  (frea-wr&su),99  now  to  a  hus- 
band (frea).100 

In  these  three  ways,  then, — by  means  of  his 
symbol,  his  race,  and  his  name, — is  the  image  of 
this  great  Teutonic  god  vaguely  reflected  in  our 
poem.  What  of  his  later  fate  in  England  as  the 
influence  of  Christianity  grew  ever  strong  e  ? 
After  furnishing  traits  to  a  few  Christian  saints101 
he  rapidly  faded  into  the  mere  remote  origin 

93  Deo.,  1089.  The  name  (in  the  form  Folcuald)  also  occurs 
in  Liber  Vitce:    Sweet,  0.  E.  T.,  p.  158,  1.  103. 

04  Nennius,  Historia  Britonum,  §  31 ;  cf .  O.  Haack,  Zeugnisse 
zur  ae.  Heldensage,  1892,  pp.  44,  40. 

85  Skirnesmol  3. 

98  Jacob  Grimm:  Deut.  Mythol.  ii.  x.  181. 

"Beo.,2285. 

98  Ibid.,  2357. 

"Ibid.,  1451. 

™Ibid.,  042. 

101  Chantcpie  de  la  Saussaye:  op.  cit.,  p,  253. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS  279 

of  a  few  medieval  customs.  His  boar  is  found 
on  an  old  helmet  dug  up  at  Benty  Grange,102 
Derbyshire;  at  medieval  feasts  the  chief  orna- 
ment was  the  boar's  head,  upon  which  knights 
made  fantastic  vows  ;103  it  is  present  in  the  fam- 
ous Alfred  Jewel;104  and  the  boar  is  mentioned, 
in  various  remedial  connections,  in  the  Old 
English  leechdoms.105  Any  such  vivid  tradi- 
tions of  him,  however,  as  kept  his  name  long 
alive  in  northern  Europe  faded  early  out  of 
England. 

As  one  suggestion  of  Frea  in  Beowulf  was 
given  by  means  of  his  symbol,  the  boar,  so,  by 
means  of  her  characteristic  ornament,  his  sister 
Freyja  is  faintly  but  fascinatingly  in  evidence. 
In  the  festal  hall  of  the  Danes  we  see  the  won- 
derful Brisinga  men  bestowed  by  Wealtheow 
upon  Beowulf,106  passed  on  by  him  to  Hygd,107 
and  finally  disappearing  from  tradition  as  part 
of  the  spoil  torn  from  Hygelac  in  his  last  dis- 
astrous campaign.108  But  to  the  mind  familiar 
with  Scandinavian  saga  the  significance  of  the 
mention  of  this  splendid  ornament  lies  not  in 
the  bit  of  court-ceremoniaf  it  introduces,  nor  in 

102  H.  M.  Chadwick:     The  Origin  of  the  English  Nation, 
p.  248. 
105  J.  Grimm:    Deut.  Mythol*  i.  x.  178. 

104  J.  Earle :     The  Alfred  Jewel. 

105  Cockayne:  op.  cit.,  i.  358,  360.  ii.  182,  310. 

106  Beo.,  1216. 

107  Ibid.,  2172. 

108  Ibid.,  1210-1211. 


280  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

its  subsequent  history,  but  in  its  intrinsic  sug- 
gestive power, — in  the  inimitable  picture  it 
brings  before  us  of  the  angry  goddess  in  Asgard, 
raging  so  furiously  at  the  demand  of  the  giant 
lord  that  this  very  necklace  bursts  into  a  shower 
of  glowing  gems.109 

Besides  this  specially  significant  reference, 
it  is  possible  that  Freyja  is  present  in  disguise 
in  the  word  geofon.110  If  this  word  is  really 
etymologically  connected  with  (re/Vow,111 — a  con- 
clusion to  which  no  scholar,  however  tempted, 
yet  definitely  commits  himself, — we  find  our- 
selves confronted  with  Freyja  in  one  of  her 
most  fascinating  and  baffling  aspects,  namely, 
the  Freyja  of  the  land  of  the  dead,  at  whose 
kindly  table  dying  maidens  confidently  expect 
to  feast112  on  the  night  of  their  departure  from 
earth. 

This  brilliant  and  beautiful  deity  shares  in 
England  the  fate  of  her  brother  Frea.  She 
fades  out  of  sight,  yielding,  however,  not  so 
much  to  the  inevitable  erasure  of  time  as  to  the 
pressure  of  more  potent  personalities.  Grad- 
ually St.  Gertrude  became  the  patron  to  whom 
dying  women  looked  for  cherishing  protection.113 
The  Virgin  Mary  usurped  her  place  in  the  hearts 

109  Corpus  Poeticum  Boreale,  i.  176-180. 

110  Beo.,  515. 

111  Edda  Snorra  Sturlusonar,  ed.  J6nsson,  1907,  p.  54. 

112  W.  Golther:    Handbuch  der  germ.  Mythol.,  p.  446. 

113  J.  Grimm:    Deut.  Mythol.,  i.  xiii.  253. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         281 

of  men  as  well  as  that  of  the  powerful  Frigg. 
The  very  stars  and  flowers  universally  acknowl- 
edged the  new  supremacy.  In  Zealand  the 
common  people  began  to  use  indiscriminately 
the  expressions  "Frejerock"  and  "Mariarok" 
for  the  constellation  we  name  Orion's  Belt.114 
Likewise,  in  the  popular  name  of  the  little 
gold  beetle,  skalkrak,  namely,  jungfru  Marie 
nyckelkiga,  the  Virgin's  name  has  replaced 
Freyja's.115  The  same  process  went  on  whole- 
sale among  plants,  doubtless,  in  England  and 
elsewhere.116  Even  the  witch  joined,  possibly, 
in  this  process  of  usurpation,  taking  posses- 
sion of  the  cat  which  tradition  connects  both 
with  Frigg  and  Freyja.117  This  animal  was 
sacrificed  to  the  former,  while  the  chariot  of 
the  latter  was  drawn  sometimes  by  cats; 
though  often,  equipped  with  falcon  plumage, 
she  flew  through  the  air,118 — another  trait  con- 
necting her  with  the  witches.  Thus  robbed 
of  the  stars,  flowers,  and  characteristic  posses- 
sions, Freyja  sank  even  more  completely  out  of 
sight  than  did  her  brother  Frea,  to  whom  his 
boar  at  least  maintained  remote  allegiance. 
We  said  at  the  beginning  of  this  section  that 

niIbid.,i.  xiii.251. 
™  Ibid.,  ii.  xi.578. 

116  Possibly  in  Marybud,  Marigold. 

117  Chantepie  de  la  Saussaye:  op.  cit.  p.  376,  p.  277; 
Grimm:  Deut.  Mythol.,  i.  xiii.  254.  Edda  Snorra  Sturlu- 
sonar,  ed.  J6nsson,  p.  45. 

118  Chantepie  de  la  Saussaye:  op.  cit.  p.  277. 


282  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

a  god  was  sometimes  present  in  our  poem  by- 
means  of  an  epithet  expressing  some  character- 
istic aspect.  We  read  that  in  the  time  of  great 
national  distress  caused  by  Grendel's  depreda- 
tions, the  heathen  "  vowed  offerings  in  their 
temples  of  idols,  besought  that  the  slayer  of 
giants  would  find  relief  for  the  people's  sor- 
row."119 The  word  translated  "  slayer  of  giants" 
is  gastbona.  There  are  in  saga  nearly  forty 
similar  epithets  applied  to  Thor;120  and  there 
seems  little  doubt  that  in  this  place  the  word 
applies  to  the  Teutonic  god.  The  allusion,  then, 
is  to  his  most  picturesque  aspect,  and  brings 
before  us  his  series  of  Titanic  struggles,  now 
against  Hrungir,  now  against  Gjalp,  now  against 
giants  who  approach  boldly  the  gates  of  As- 
gard.121 

The  fate  of  this  god  after  the  introduction  of 
Christianity  is  interesting.  He  does  not  fade 
out  of  notice,  as  do  Frea  and  Freyja.  The 
peculiarly  violent  character  of  Thor, — the  death- 
dealing  power  of  his  mighty  hammer, — made  him 
like  Loki  for  different  reasons,  more  peculiarly 
liable  to  the  process  of  degeneration  than  were 
the  serene  and  joyous  deities  Frea  and  Freyja, 
who,  as  we  have  seen,  either  died  out  or  became 

119  Beo.,  177. 

120  Grondal :  Clavis  Poetica  Antiquce  Lingual.  Septentrio- 
nales,  cited  by  J.  Earlc  in  his  translation  of  Beowulf,  note  to 
1.  177. 

121  Edda  Snorra  Sturlusonar,  ed.  J6nsson,  pp.  41,  73,  88. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         283 

merged  with  congenial  Christian  saints.  In 
all  Teutonic  lands  Thor's  violence  became  iden  • 
titled  with  the  destructive  malice  of  the  Chris- 
tian devil.  His  hammer  gradually  became  per- 
sonified so  that  at  last  the  words  "Hammer," 
"Thunder,"  and  "Devil"  became  almost  syno- 
nyms.122 "Thor's  bridge"  is  synonymous  in 
Schonen  for  the  "devil's  bridge," — indicating 
strange  chaotic  piles  of  rock,123 — and  "Hammer- 
lein"  signified  a  demoniacal  goblin,124  while  the 
expression  "de  Hammer  sla"  was  equivalent 
to  our  "The  Devil  take  you."125 

There  are,  of  course,  many  traces  of  the  un- 
degenerate  Thor  in  the  names  of  towns,  moun- 
tains, insects,  herbs,  and  animals  scattered 
through  Scandinavia  and  Germany,126 — and  in 
some  places  a  certain  sacredness  was  attached 
to  Thursday,  which  precluded  on  that  day 
certain  forms  of  work  such  as  hop-gathering127 
and  spinning.  Until  comparatively  late  the 
custom  survived  of  throwing  a  stone  hammer 
to  determine  the  boundary  of  a  field.128  As  a 
rule,  however,  he  is,  as  before  stated,  pretty 
completely  identified  with  the  Christian  devil. 

In  England,  as  is  the  case  with  the  other  gods, 

122  J.  M.  Kemble :     The  Saxons  in  England,  i.  350. 

123  J.  Grimm:    Deut.  Mythol.,  i.  viii.  155. 
luIbid.,  i.  viii.  151. 

™Ibid.,  i.  viii.  151. 

126  Ibid.,  i.  viii.  151-55. 

127  Thorpe:    Northern  Mythology,  i.  276. 

128  Chantepie  de  la  Saussaye:    op.  cit.,  p.  212. 


284  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

the  traces  of  him  are  comparatively  faint. 
Thunder  and  thunderbolts  may  suggest  to  us, 
in  our  less  stolid  moments,  the  image  of  the 
angry,  active  god.  Of  his  early-acquired  dia- 
bolical nature  we  have  possibly  traces  in  a  sec- 
tion of  England  where,  near  the  village  of  Thurs- 
ley  (unmistakably  named  for  Thor),  there  are 
two  synonyms  for  his  name  in  its  degradation, 
namely,  "Hammer"  and  "Devil,"  applied  to 
pond  and  valley  respectively.129  On  the  whole, 
however,  England  has  displayed  comparative 
good-will  toward  this  maligned  god.  In  one  of 
the  Old  English  leechdoms  there  is  a  curious 
instance  of  the  Thursday-superstition  above 
referred  to,  namely,  strenuous  insistance  upon 
performing  certain  magical  rites  for  the  cure  of 
a  certain  disease  "on  a  Thursday  evening."130 
These  leechdoms  also  cite  pleasant  healing  herbs 
named  from  him,  like  Thunderwort131  and  Ham- 
merwort;132  though  these  are  very  balefully  fol- 
lowed, in  the  next  prescription,  by  the  word 
"thunthr-thingum"133  applied  to  ulcerous  sores. 
England  has  also  honored  him  by  borrowing 
his  hammer,  his  red  beard,  and  his  dragon  for 
St.  George;134  and  it  is  pleasant  to  leave  him 

129  J.  M.  Kemble :    The  Saxons  in  England,  i.  350. 

130  Cockayne:  op.  cit.,  ii.  347. 

131  Ibid.,  in.  111. 

132  Ibid.,  i.  375. 

133  Ibid.,  i.  356. 

131  Chantepie  de  laSaussaye:    op.  cit.,  p.  216. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         285 

there,  in  the  shadow  of  the  fierce  and  picturesque 
English  saint,  in  a  measure  restored  to  pristine 
respectability. 

We  have  seen  how  Thor,  apparent  in  Beowulf 
in  sublime  aspect,  was  afterwards  degraded  to 
the  rank  of  a  devil.  We  see  in  our  poem 
another  god  absolutely  in  the  process  of  degen- 
eration. There  are  three  times  mentioned  in 
Beowulf155  nickers,  or  sea-spirits,  curiously  en- 
dowed with  a  supernatural  faculty,  which  like 
the  supernatural  strength  of  Beowulf,136  or  the 
supernatural  beauty  of  Horn,137  inevitably  sug- 
gests previous  divinity.  More  significant  still, 
in  an  old  German  glossary  the  word  "neckar" 
is  translated  by  "  Neptune,"  the  god  of  the  sea. 
"Hnikuthr,"  "Nikuz,"  is  known  to  be  one  of 
the  names  given  to  Woden  when  he  appears  as 
god  of  the  sea. 13  8  The  natural  conclusion  is  that 
we  have  in  these  malicious,  man-eating  monsters 
the  great  god  Woden  well  on  his  way  toward 
his  degeneration. 

In  England,  Woden  has  left  more  traces  than 
the  gods  previously  mentioned,  though,  as  usual, 
far  fewer  than  in  the  Continental  countries, 
where  compounds  containing  his  name  were 
attached  to  large  numbers  of  mountains,  woods, 
woodglades,   towns,   islands,   birds,   and   even 

138  Beo.,  567-569,  1428-1429,  1440. 

136  Ibid.,  379-380. 

137  Geste  of  Horn,  11.  385-6. 

138  J.  Grimm:    Deut.Myihol.  i.  vii.  123. 


286  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

estates  of  noble  families.139  In  comparatively 
few  cases,  apparently,  has  the  name  of  the 
Christian  God,  as  in  the  case  of  Wodensholt,140 
now  Godensholt,  of  Oldenburg,  crowded  out 
Woden's,  as  Mary's  did  Freyja's  in  names  of 
plants. 

Of  the  continuance  in  later  tradition  of  the 
diabolical  aspect  of  Woden  apparent  in  Beowulf, 
we  have  general  evidence  in  the  persistence  of 
the  belief  in  evil  water-spirits.141  Also,  on  the 
ground  of  its  etymological  likeness  to  a  Norse 
name  for  Odin,  Oski,  it  is  maintained  that  the 
term  which  still  survives  in  Devonshire  for 
magic,  namely  "wishtness,"  is  traceable  to 
Woden  degenerate.142  It  would  be  interesting 
to  feel,  with  Grimm,  that  the  witchcraft  super- 
stition of  a  league  with  the  devil  in  which,  in 
exchange  for  his  service,  you  gave  him  your  soul, 
may  have  been  suggested  to  Christians  by  the 
"gefaz  Othin,"  "the  giving  oneself  to  Odin,"  of 
old  Norse  legend.143  But  besides  the  fact  that 
this  sort  of  league  is  precisely  the  sort  of  notion 
that  might  spring  up  independently  in  any  local- 
ity, there  is  the  grave  objection  that  in  the  "ge- 
faz  Othin"  it  was  the  devotee  who  promised 

139  Ibid.,  i.  vii.  126-128. 

li0Ibid.,  i.  vii.  126. 

'■"  Blickling  Homilies.    To  Santse  Michaheles  Maessan. 

142  J.  M.  Kemble:  The  Saxons  in  England,  i.  336;  Eden 
Phillpotts:  The  Striking  Hours  (Tauchnitz  Ed.,  vol.  3653), 
p.  41. 

143  J.  Grimm:     Deut.  Mythol.,*  ii.  xxxiii.  851. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         287 

service,  while  in  the  witchcraft  pact  it  was  the 
devil, — a  consideration  which  compels  me  to  re- 
ject the  suggestion.  Of  course,  in  Old  English 
sermons  Woden  takes  his  place,  along  with  all 
the  old  pagan  deities,  Teutonic  or  Greek,  as  a 
devil  indeed.  With  his  particular  legend,  how- 
ever, Old  England,  on  the  whole,  dealt  kindly. 
His  hat  and  mantle  and  dapple-grey  horse  reap- 
pear in  the  legend  of  St.  Martin  and  St.  Mi- 
chael.144 We  have  many  place-names  embodying 
his :  Wanborough  in  Surrey,  Wanborough  in  Wilt- 
shire, Woodnesborough  in  Kent,  Wonston  in 
Hampshire  probably  mark  the  old  sites  for 
worship  on  the  top  of  hills.  Near  the  first  are 
peculiarly  fresh  and  pure  springs  that  never 
freeze,145  objects  particularly  marked  for  vener- 
ation by  our  forefathers.146  But  the  most  strik- 
ing proof  of  the  persistence  of  Woden's  popu- 
larity is  the  fashion  in  which  he  has  established 
himself  in  England  as  progenitor  of  every  Anglo- 
Saxon  royal  family.147  Take  Offa,  king  of  the 
Mercians,  for  instance.  Offa  was  son  of  Thincg- 
ferth,  Thincgferth  son  of  Eanwulf,  Eanwulf 
of  Osmod,  Osmod  of  Eawa,  Eawa  of  Pybba, 
Pybba  of  Creoda,Creoda  of  Cynewald,Cynewald 
of  Cnebba,  Cnebba  of  Ikel,  Ikel  of  Eomaer,  Eo- 

144  Chantepie  de  la  Saussaye:    op.  cit.  212-213. 

145  J.  M.  Kemble:     The  Saxons  in  England,  i.  344;  Holin- 
shed's  Chron.,  i.  171. 

146  Benjamin  Thorpe:  Northern  Mythol.,  i.  257. 

147  H.  Chadwick:  op.  cit.,  p.  59. 


288  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

maer  of  Angeltheow,  Angeltheow  of  Offa,  Offa 
of  Waermund,  Waermund  of  Wihtlaeg,  Wiht- 
laeg  of  Woden;148  or  of  Ethelwulf  of  ,the  West 
Saxons :  Ethelwulf  son  of  Egbert,  Egbert  son  of 
Elmund,  Elmund  of  Eaf  a,  Eafa  of  Eoppa,  Eoppa 
of  Ingild,  Ingild  of  Kenred,  Kenred  of  Ceol- 
wald,  Ceolwald  of  Cutha,  Cutha  of  Cuthwin, 
Cuthwin  of  Ceawlin,  Ceawlin  of  Cynric,  Cynric 
of  Cerdic,  Cerdic  of  Elesa,  Elesa  of  Esla,  Esla  of 
Gewis,  Gewis  of  Wig,  Wig  of  Freawin,  Freawin 
of  Frithogar,  Frithogar  of  Brond,  Brond  of  Bel- 
deg,  Beldeg  of  Woden.149  All  of  the  Anglo-Sax- 
on Genealogies  run  in  such  wise ;  and  the  invaria- 
ble presence  of  Woden  proves  conclusively  the 
preservation  for  this  god  at  least  of  some  degree 
of  his  previous  godhead,  while  the  presence  in 
the  Wessex  genealogy  of  Freawine  (Frea)  along 
with  Woden150  is  interesting  not  only  as  rescuing 
the  former  god  from  the  almost  total  obscurity 
into  which  he  would  have  otherwise  fallen,  but 
also  as  emphasizing  one  line  of  cleavage  taking 
place  in  Christian  tradition  among  the  gods. 
The  more  serene  and  beneficent,  like  Woden  and 
Fr6a,  tended  on  the  whole,  in  spite  of  occasional 
slips,  toward  positions  of  blameless  distinction, 
while  others,  like  Thor  and  Loki  and  the  water- 
brood,  drifted  into  more  or  less  close  identifica- 
tion with  the  devil  himself.     It  is  a  significant 

148  A.  S.  Chron.,  A.  D.  755. 

"'Ibid.,  855. 

naA.S.  Chron.,  A.  D.  855. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         289 

fact  that  never  by  any  chance  do  Thor  and  Loki 
make  their  way  into  the  royal  genealogies. 

Another  water-monster  there  is  in  our  poem 
who  bears  traces  of  the  supernatural  quality 
visible  in  the  nickers.  This  is  Grendel,  who 
walks  on  the  "  misty  moors"  "in  the  form  of  a 
man,"151  beneath  whose  touch  the  solid  doors 
of  Heorot  fall  open,152  whose  charmed  body  is 
weapon -proof.153  Beyond  this,  however,  Gren- 
del has  various  characteristics  which  would 
seem  to  connect  him  with  specific  gods.  He  has 
traits  in  common  with  Loki,  for  instance.  Though 
Loki  is  a  fire  god,  yet  we  find  him  closely  con- 
nected with  water,  Grendel's  element.  The 
Midgard-serpent  and  the  Fenris  wolf  are  his 
offspring,  and,  in  one  old  song,  water  is  called 
his  element.  One  of  his  notable  adventures 
is  performed  in  the  shape  of  a  fish.154  Also 
Grendel,  though  a  water  sprite,  is  connected 
with  Loki's  element  through  an  unumlauted 
form  of  his  name,  Grant,  which  belongs  to  an 
English  fire-demon.155  Moreover  the  etymol- 
ogy of  the  two  names  is  significant,  Loki  mean- 
ing "the  closer,"156  Grendel  being  possibly  re- 
lated to  A.  S.  grintel,  O.  H.  G.  krintil,  M.  H.  G. 


»i  Beo.,  1353. 

™Ibid.,  722. 

™Ibid.,  801-805. 

164  Edda  Snorra  Sturlusonar,  ed.  J6nsson,  pp.  49,  94  f. 

155  Grimm:  op.cit.,i.  xii.  201. 

166  Chantepie  de  la  Saussaye :    op.  cit.,  p.  260. 


290  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

grintel,  "bolt  or  bar."167  It  is  a  striking  fact 
that  in  Germany  a  synonym  for  a  diabolic  being 
is  Hollriegel,  "hell-bar,"  "hell-bolt." 

It  seems  probable,  then,  that  we  have  in  Gren- 
del  a  stage  in  the  degradation  of  Loki  from  a 
malicious  and  tricksy  god  into  the  devil  par 
excellence  which  finally  he  indubitably  became. 
So  completely  was  his  individuality  absorbed 
by  the  archfiend  of  Christian  tradition  that 
scarcely  a  reminiscence  of  him  existed  even  on 
the  Continent , — not  at  all  in  England.  Wester- 
gotland  has  her  giant  grave,158  Lokehall;  in 
Scandinavia  a  harmful  weed  is  called  "Loki's 
oats";  the  star  Sirius  is  called  Lokabrenna; 
and  he  still  lives  inafewproverbial  expressions.169 
In  England,  however,  not  a  name  or  a  custom  is 
reminiscent  of  him.  He  was  totally  supplanted 
by  the  devil  of  the  new  regime.  Grendel  also 
possesses  a  trait  of  yet  another  old  god.  His 
strange  dwelling  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  with 
its  wave-proof  roof  and  weird  light,160  resembles 
that  of  the  serene  and  friendly  Aegir,161  guest 
and  host  of  the  gods  of  Asgard,  whose  abode  was 
cheerily  lighted  by  masses   of  shining  sunken 

167  Grimm:  op.  cit.,  i.  xii.  201. 

158  Ibid.,  i,  xii.  210. 

169  Chantcpie  de  la  Saussaye:    op.  cit.,  p.  260. 

160  Beo.,  1570-71. 

161  W.   Golther:    Handbuch    der    germ.  Mythol.,   p.    174. 
Chantcpie  de  la  Saussaye:  op.  cit.,  331. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         291 

gold.162    Of  this  Aegir163no  reminiscence  remains, 
so  far  as  I  know,  on  the  Continent  or  in  England. 

There  remains  to  be  discussed  a  set  of  words 
which,  though  they  appear  as  mere  common 
nouns,  retain  in  their  context  a  certain  vivacity 
of  expression  which  seems  to  indicate  that,  when 
they  were  written,  the  ideas  they  represented 
had  not  sunk  into  these  mere  abstractions,  but 
were  still  active  personal  agencies.  Such  words 
are  hel  (hel  him  onfeng)  ;164  hild  (gif  mec  hild 
nime)  165  wig  (wig  ealle  fornam).166 

The  goddess  Hel  reigned  over  the  dark  regions 
whither  led  the  gloomy  Helvegr,  which,  winding 
through  deep  and  dark  valleys,  must  be  trav- 
eled by  the  dead,  for  which  Hollenwanderung 
the  Helskor  (hell-shoe)  was  given  them.167  This 
kingdom  of  Hel's  is  shut  away  from  the  land 
of  the  living  by  the  Helgrind  or  Hollenthor. 
But,  though  all  was  black  and  cheerless,  there 
was  no  idea  of  punitive  suffering  connected  with 
Hel's  domain.168  The  fate  of  this  fine  old  god- 
dess is  singular.  It  happened  that,  in  pagan 
tradition,  there  existed  also  a  place  called  Na- 
strond,  where,  amid  deadly  serpents,  the  per- 
jurer and  secret  murderer  expiated  their  guilt.169 

162  W.  Golther:op.  cit.,  p.  174. 
188  Not  to  be  confused  with  Oegir. 
164  Beo.,  852. 
™Ibid.,  452. 
™Ibid.,  1081. 

167  W.  Golther :     Handbuch  der  germ.  Mythol.,  p.  471. 

168  Ibid.,  p.  472. 

169  J.  M.  Kemble:     The  Saxons  in  England,  i.  393. 


292  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

When  according  to  the  Christian  belief,  a  place 
of  punishment  after  death  was  needed  for  all 
sorts  of  sinners,  the  Anglo-Saxons  joined,  to 
this  end,  the  shadows  and  cold  of  Hel's  domain 
to  the  serpents  of  Nastrond.170  The  result  was 
the  conception  of  hell  that  we  find  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage,  "For  them  he  made  hell,  a 
dwelling  deadly  cold,  with  winter  covered ;  water 
he  sent  in  and  snake-dwellings,  many  a  foul 
beast  with  horns  of  iron ;  bloody  eagles  and  pale 
adders;  hunger  and  thirst  and  fierce  conflict, 
mighty  terror,  joylessness."171  From  this  place 
of  blackness  and  horror  the  goddess  Hel  van- 
ishes entirely,  leaving  only  her  name  for  a  me- 
mento. As  time  passed  on,  this  place  of  torment 
began  to  glow  with  the  sinister  flames  of  Orien- 
tal tradition,  which  increased  so  rapidly  in 
volume  and  fury  that,  by  the  end  of  the  seventh 
century,  the  old  goddess,  returning,  would  have 
recognized,  in  the  horrid  furnace  with  its  writh- 
ing souls,  no  trace  of  the  quiet,  sombre  stretches 
and  the  pallid  ghosts  of  her  old  domain. 

Of  the  two  other  words  instanced  with  hel 
as  containing,  in  their  context,  lifelike  sugges- 
tions, namely,  wig  and  hild,  the  first  is  pre- 
served for  us  as  a  variant  for  Woden  in  one  of 
the  genealogies,172  while  Hild  drops  entirely  out 
of  sight. 

170  Hid.,  p.  394. 

171  Solomon  and  Saturn,quoted  by  Kemble,  op.  cit.,  p.  394-5. 
"'A.  8.  Chron.,  A.  D.  855. 


TEUTONIC  RACIAL  CONCEPTIONS         293 

Of  common  nouns  which,  used  quite  color- 
lessly, are  yet  the  faded  names  of  old  deities, 
we  mention  tir}m  eagor,17i  fifel,175  and  possibly 
firgen.176  The  first,  Tyr,177  a  mighty  god  of 
war,  left  his  name  in  England  to  mark  the  third 
day  of  the  week,  and  the  town  of  Tewesley;178 
Eagor  and  Fifel,  two  names  for  one  stormy  sea- 
god,  have  left  few  or  no  traces  either  in  Germany 
or  elsewhere;  while  Firgen,  if  indeed  the  word  is 
a  name  of  Earth  herself,179  retains,  in  England 
at  least,  personal  quality  only  in  a  charm,  where, 
with  commendable  vigor,  she  still  holds  her  own 
against  the  Virgin  Mary ;  and,  on  the  ground  of 
her  motherhood  to  Thor,  in  the  familiar  tra- 
dition of  the  devil's  dam,  or  the  devil's  grand- 
mother.180 

Let  us  now  sum  up  briefly  the  degree  to  which, 
according  to  the  data  just  given,  the  residence 
of  the  Anglo-Saxons  in  England  had  modified 
certain  Teutonic  conceptions. 

From  a  simple  acceptance  of  the  theory  that 
the  weak  are  the  natural  slaves  of  the  strong, 
they  had  advanced  to  some  conception  of  the 
righteous  claim  of  every  human  soul  to  certain 
individual  rights  and  liberties.     Feebly  grasped 

"3  Beo.,  1654. 

17iIbid.,  513.     See  also  Grimm,  op.  cit.,  iii.  82. 

175/fo'd.,104. 

™Ibid.,  1414. 

177  Edda  Snorra  Sturlusonar,  ed.  J6nsson,  pp.  45  f . 

178  Kemble:    op.  cit.,  p.  351. 

179  J.  Grimm:    Devi.  My  thiol*  i.  viii.  143. 

180  Ibid.,  i.  viii.  144. 


294  CHRISTABEL  F.  FISKE 

as  yet,  and  working  itself  out  but  slowly  in  prac- 
tical policies,  it  yet  was  raising  woman  from 
hopeless  domestic  slavery  to  a  position  compat- 
ible with  some  degree  of  individual  choice  and 
initiative;  and  was  shielding  the  hunted  out- 
law from  the  blind  fury  of  his  ruthless  pursuer 
by  insistence  upon  orderly  legal  procedure. 

Analogous  advance  is  perceptible  in  the  scien- 
tific thought  of  the  period.  In  medicine,  slight 
as  was  its  achievement,  we  yet  can  trace  dis- 
tinctly growing  dependence  upon  rational 
ideas  and  methods.  As  we  have  seen,  the  ele- 
ment of  magic  was  not  driven  out;  but,  on  the 
whole,  medicine  was  being  conceived  of  more 
and  more  as  an  art  based  not  upon  knowledge  of 
mystical  relations  and  occult  processes,  but  up- 
on knowledge  of  natural  law  disclosing  itself 
slowly  but  surely  to  the  patient  investigator. 

In  religion,  too,  we  note,  a  significant  change. 
Of  the  multitude  of  deities  filling  earth  and  air 
and  sea,  often  at  war  with  each  other, — never 
united  by  a  common  conscious  purpose,— only 
traces  are  left  here  and  there  in  custom,  or  super- 
stition, or  name.  Under  the  influence  of  Augus- 
tine and  his  monks  they  had  arrived  at  the  notion 
of  one  great  force  governing  the  universe, — 
from  the  soul  of  man  to  the  remotest  star, — 
all  in  the  light  of  one  great  and  unswerving  pur- 
pose; had  arrived,  that  is,  at  a  conception  which, 
-whether  he  call  it  God,  or  Ultimate  Cause, 
or  Evolution,  or  Law, — to  the  modern  man 
remains  perennially  and  vitally  interesting. 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW 

BY  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM,  PH.B.,  LL.B. 

One  of  the  most  curious  anomalies  in  modern 
education  is  the  comparatively  slight  atten- 
tion paid  in  the  United  States  to  the  study  of 
the  English  language  as  a  preparation  for  the 
study  and  practice  of  law.  It  would  seem  to  be 
self-evident  that  before  entering  upon  the  spe- 
cial study  of  any  science — whether  psychology, 
ethics,  political  economy,  or  law — which  at  best 
is  always  limited  by  the  possibilities  of  language, 
and  can  never  be  more  nearly  precise  than  the 
words  and  expressions  in  which  it  must  be 
couched,  the  student  should  master  that  lan- 
guage in  which  his  future  study  is  to  lie.  Yet 
a  method  so  obviously  right  and  necessary  is 
quite  generally  ignored.  The  future  lawyer  first 
spends  several  years  in  the  primary  and  second- 
ary schools,  where  only  recently — speaking  of 
them  as  a  class  and  not  reflecting  upon  certain 
conspicuous  exceptions — has  any  real  effort 
been  made  to  educate  the  young  American  in 
his  own  language.  The  inadequacy  of  this  early 
training  in  English  is  painfully  apparent  to  all 
who  have  read   the  papers  which   Freshmen 


296  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

hand  in  to  their  instructors.  Not  only  are 
these  papers  oblivious  of  the  higher  claims  of 
rhetoric,  they  are  often  lacking  in  the  elements 
of  spelling  and  grammar.  In  some  cases  a 
Freshman  of  intelligent  appearance  and  good 
general  education  will  be  so  unfamiliar  with  his 
own  tongue  as  not  to  know  the  ordinary  sounds 
of  the  vowels,  but  will  use  a  for  e,  or  e  for  i,  not 
from  negligence,  but  from  ignorance  of  the  sound 
which  is  signified  by  the  letter. 

When  the  student  enters  college  he  is  met  by 
another  difficulty.  No  longer  is  there  a  lack  of 
proper  instruction  in  English  so  far  as  such 
instruction  is  found  in  the  Department  of  Eng- 
lish. The  trouble  now  is  that  too  little  is  made 
of  that  Department,  and  that  work  in  Eng- 
lish is  confined  to  the  courses  there  given.  The 
courses  in  English  are  too  often  looked  upon 
either  as  necessary  but  useless  bores  to  be  passed 
up  or  grudgingly  taken,  or  as  "snaps"  to  fill  out 
an  easy  programme.  Instead  of  making  a 
specialty  of  English,  the  student  in  Arts  who 
intends  later  to  study  law,  will  plan  to  study 
mathematics  to  train  his  " reasoning  powers," 
unmindful  of  the  fact  that  a  true  legal  mind  is 
a  natural  gift,  and  cannot  be  acquired  through 
a  cycle  of  mathematics.  Or,  he  will  plan  a  long 
and  painstaking  course  in  history  and  political 
economy,  and  social  science;  a  wise  proceeding, 
yet  he  should  remember  that  he  will  need  his 
knowledge  of  English  a  thousand  times  for  every 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW  297 

single  demand  upon  his  knowledge  of  history, 
or  political  economy,  or  social  science.  More- 
over, he  will  discover  too  often  that  his  exami- 
nation papers  in  any  subject  outside  of  the 
English  Department  will  bring  him  high  marks 
if  accurate  in  statements  of  fact,  even  though 
expressed  in  language  inelegant  and  sometimes 
uncouth.  In  addition  to  all  this,  he  will  find 
a  disposition  on  the  part  of  many  lawyers  as 
well  as  teachers  to  speak  slightingly  of  the  study 
of  English;  all  of  which  may  mislead  his  im- 
mature mind.  Altogether,  he  will  be  among  the 
minority  if  he  does  not  enter  upon  the  study  of 
the  law,  and  later  upon  its  practice,  with  a  mind 
untrained  in  English  as  a  science;  and  what  is 
more  deplorable,  untrained  in  English  as  an 
art. 

To  this  it  may  be  answered  that  very  many 
lawyers  are  prospering  and  growing  rich  with- 
out the  ability  to  write  a  single  sentence  cor- 
rectly and  effectively.  When  we  reach  this 
point  in  the  discussion,  we  should  seek  to  under- 
stand what  sort  of  lawyer  the  student  desires 
to  be.  Should  he  content  himself  with  being 
merely  a  money-seeking  practitioner,  without 
desire  for  other  than  pecuniary  success,  and 
without  ambition  to  excel  in  the  trial  of  cases, 
the  presentation  of  arguments,  or  even  the 
drafting  of  papers  in  clear  and  unmistakable 
language,  he  may  dismiss  all  thought  of  the 
study  of  English.     By  the  same  token,  he  might 


298  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

well  omit  all  training  at  a  university.  His  place 
is  among  men  who  rely,  and  safely  rely,  upon 
the  money-making  instinct.  Broad  education, 
general  culture,  art,  beauty,  the  love  of  nature, 
interest  in  humanity,  all  these  are  unnecessary 
if  not  uncongenial  to  such  a  career.  To  a  stu- 
dent with  such  business  views,  we  can  say  only 
that  he  has  wandered  from  his  path  in  coming 
to  the  university  at  all,  and  should  leave  at 
once — unless,  perchance,  by  remaining,  he  may 
catch  a  glimpse  of  what  is  worth  while  before 
it  is  too  late.  Mere  pecuniary  arguments  are 
of  a  piece  with  the  constantly  recurring  decla- 
mations by  a  few  venturesome  millionaires — hap- 
pily not  representative  of  millionaires  as  a  class 
—against  colleges  and  college  education  in  gen- 
eral. "Why  go  to  college?"  say  they.  "It 
costs  money  and  it  takes  time  during  which 
you  might  be  earning  other  money.  Go  to 
work  and  get  rich."  Certainly.  Why  not? 
Why  not  live  in  a  hovel  instead  of  a  palace? 
It  costs  less  and  you  have  fewer  housekeeping 
cares.  Then,  too,  you  would  not  need  to  be 
rich.  Or,  if  wealth  is  all  important,  why  not 
omit  all  art  along  with  all  knowledge?  Then, 
you  could  enjoy  a  billboard  more  than  the  fam- 
ous Hals,  and  save  the  cost  of  opera  seats  by 
contributing  a  nickel  occasionally  to  an  organ 
grinder.  Limitless  and  undeniable  are  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  Philistine,  but  only  to  him. 
Assuming,    however,   that   the  student   has 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW  299 

high  ideals  for  his  professional  career;  that  with- 
out wishing  to  practise  law  for  any  reason  other 
than  to  attain  fame  and  fortune,  and  perhaps 
more  particularly  fortune,  he  yet  wishes  to 
practise  it  as  a  gentleman  and  scholar;  and  that 
he  earnestly  desires  to  secure  the  best  possible 
preparation  for  his  career;  even  then,  he  may 
take  too  much  for  granted  when  it  comes  to 
the  study  of  English.  It  is  a  natural  but  most 
unsafe  assumption  that  we  know  the  language 
to  which  we  were  born.  A  famous  teacher  of 
English  once  said  that  it  seemed  to  be  generally 
supposed  that  every  one  who  was  possessed  of 
a  fair  general  education  and  had  committed 
no  crime  could  teach  the  English  language. 
There  seems  to  be  among  law  students  a  similar 
and  equally  fallacious  impression  of  their  ability 
to  write  and  speak  the  language.  Yet  the  fact 
is  the  other  way.  Once  in  a  long  time,  among 
many  millions,  there  is  born  a  person  who  will 
write  well  no  matter  how  imperfect  his  educa- 
tion; but  in  the  same  circumstances  there  will 
arise  a  comparatively  large  number  of  men  who 
are  capable  of  acquiring  a  fair  degree  of  pro- 
ficiency in  the  art  of  expression,  but  solely  upon 
condition  of  getting  adequate  training.  More- 
over, many  of  these  men  will  have  good  legal 
minds  and  will  be  likely  to  study  law.  To  them 
every  inducement  should  be  addressed  to  en- 
courage a  proper  preparation  in  English. 

What  is  a  proper  preparation  may  be  open  to 


300  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

discussion,  but  the  end  to  be  attained  is  free 
from  doubt:  the  ability  to  express  both  orally 
and  in  writing  clear  and  convincing  thoughts  in 
apt,  precise,  and  at  times,  elegant,  words.  Clear 
thinking  and  clear  writing  tend  to  go,  and  ought 
to  go,  hand  in  hand.  With  this  ideal  in  mind, 
the  teacher  and  student  ought  not  to  go  far 
astray.  First,  of  course,  must  come  the  tech- 
nical side  of  the  training :  the  elements  of  gram- 
mar and  rhetoric.  Next,  must  come  a  growing 
familiarity  with  the  masters  of  English  prose; 
by  which  I  mean  the  intelligent  reading  of  the 
works  of  the  masters,  not  an  interminable 
wrangle  about  those  works.  Last,  and  most 
important,  is  the  constant  practice  of  writing 
and  speaking  under  instruction  and  criticism, 
continued  for  many  years.  Every  prospective 
lawyer  with  hopes  of  high  achievement  would 
be  the  better  for  a  reasonable  amount  of  such 
training  from  the  day  he  enters  high  school  to 
the  day  he  is  admitted  to  the  bar :  in  other  words, 
during  a  period  of  ten  years.  After  that  he 
might  be  able  to  write  and  speak  so  that  he 
would  be  readily  understood,  and  could  not  be 
misunderstood  except  by  a  reader  stupid  or  per- 
verse. Whoever  doubts  the  desirability  of 
such  a  consummation  need  only  spend  a  week 
in  any  court  of  law,  however  exalted,  or  read 
any  of  the  common  run  of  contracts  or  other 
legal  documents  which  are  abroad  in  the  land. 
A  superficial  conclusion  from  the  foregoing 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW  301 

discussion  might  be  that  the  writer  is  about 
half  or  three-quarters  of  a  century  behind  the 
age,  and  is  amusing  himself  with  the  delusion 
that  every  lawyer  is  to  try  to  become  a  Webster, 
thundering  his  resounding  sentences  before  an 
astonished  world.  Such  a  conclusion  is  quite 
unwarranted.  Every  member  of  the  bar  knows 
that  a  conception  of  modern  practice  so  mis- 
taken would  be  not  only  misleading  but  grotes- 
que. Yet  this  fact  in  no  way  invalidates  our 
argument.  The  law  does  not  offer  a  field  chiefly 
to  men  of  the  type  of  Webster;  though  were  he 
living,  he  would  find  room  enough,  as  must  be 
evident  to  any  one  who  will  compare  his  famous 
addresses  with  the  recent  efforts  of  various 
counsel  now  much  in  the  public  eye.  Never- 
theless, the  training  referred  to  is  intended  not 
especially  for  genius,  but  for  mediocrity  as  well. 
The  ordinary,  representative,  modern  lawyer, 
whether  he  be  occupied  in  court,  or  more  profit- 
ably in  his  office,  needs  it.  He  needs  it  for  his 
contracts,  for  his  wills,  for  his  briefs,  for  his 
oral  arguments.  He  needs  it  in  discussions 
with  his  clients,  and  with  opposing  counsel  in 
conference,  just  as  much  as  in  court.  He  needs 
it  whenever  he  writes  a  letter.  He  needs  it 
every  hour  of  every  day.  Indeed,  it  has  been 
said  by  a  university  graduate,  that  for  actual, 
vital,  practical  benefit  in  the  practice  of  the  law, 
he  would  not  exchange  all  his  other  college 
work — valuable  as  it  was — for  his  training  in 
English. 


302  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

It  is  true  that  for  most  lawyers  it  is  more  im- 
portant to  have  the  art  of  written  than  of  oral 
expression,  if  one  only  can  be  acquired.  Yet 
generally  both  arts  may  be  acquired,  at  least 
in  adequate  measure.  Even  those  students 
who  look  forward  to  an  office  practice  exclu- 
sively ought  to  consider  the  advantage  of  read- 
iness of  speech  in  informal  discussions,  and  also 
the  desirability  of  being  able  to  make  a  fairly 
good  impression  in  court  when  every  other  law- 
yer in  the  office  is  otherwise  engaged  and  an 
adjournment  cannot  be  obtained.  To  have  this 
power  requires  practice,  however  strongly  a 
contrary  view  may  be  held  by  some  who  ought 
to  know  better.  It  is  said  that  a  prominent 
teacher  of  law  tells  his  students  that  they  do  not 
need  to  pay  much  attention  to  public  speaking, 
as  they  will  probably  do  little  of  it,  and  if  they  do 
get  before  a  jury  now  and  then,  all  they  need  to 
do  is  to  stand  up  and  talk.  This  would  seem 
to  be  equivalent  to  telling  a  young  actor  that 
he  need  not  pay  much  attention  to  elocution  or 
the  technique  of  acting,  as  he  stands  little  chance 
of  becoming  a  great  actor,  and  if  he  does  get  an 
opportunity  to  play  Hamlet  now  and  then,  all 
he  needs  to  do  is  to  stand  up  and  act. 

For  the  law  student  who  hopes  to  become  a 
successful  advocate,  and  there  is  still  room  for 
advocates,  no  argument  should  be  needed  to 
show  the  vital  importance  of  a  long,  severe  train- 
ing in  public  speaking  as  well  as  in  writing.     The 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW  303 

master  of  oral  speech  is  partly  born,  but  is 
largely  made.  He  must  be  trained  in  one  school 
or  another  even  after  he  has  finished  his  collegi- 
ate work — at  the  bar,  upon  the  stump,  in  legis- 
lative halls — until  the  elements  of  his  art  have 
become  a  part  of  his  nature,  and  he  obeys  the 
rules  in  the  books  though  he  may  have  forgot- 
ten them.  Orators  come  and  go,  styles  change, 
tastes  vary;  but  oratory  will  never  die.  It  is 
as  immortal  as  language  itself.  Language  was 
spoken  long  before  it  was  written,  and  the  spoken 
word  ever  comes  with  a  peculiar  power  to  the 
mind  and  heart. 

The  law  has  to  do  with  language,  with  words : 
it  is  expressed  in  words;  it  is  defined  in  words; 
it  is  applied  in  words.  The  law  can  never  be 
anything  except  as  it  is  embodied  in  language. 
This  being  true,  the  study  of  language  should 
be  the  main  preliminary  to  the  study  of  law. 
Evidently  the  older  school  of  legal  education 
took  this  for  granted.  Training  in  the  classics, 
which  was  always  insisted  upon  as  the  corner 
stone  of  education,  was  largely  for  the  purpose 
of  grounding  the  student  in  language  as  distin- 
guished from  a  language,  and  thus  giving  him  a 
deeper  and  truer  comprehension  of  his  own.  So 
the  great  lawyers  of  the  world  from  Cicero  to 
Webster,  yes,  and  to  Carter,  too,  have  been 
masters  of  their  own  language. 

Let  us  glance  at  Webster's  early  work  in 
English,  and  perhaps  cite  an  illustration  of  his 
later  proficiency  in  it. 


304  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Webster  prtpared 
for  college  partly  at  Phillips  Exeter  Academy. 
Of  his  work  there,  he  says: 

I  believe  I  made  tolerable  progress  in  most  branch- 
es which  I  attended  to  while  in  this  school;  but 
there  was  one  thing  I  could  not  do.  I  could  not  make 
a  declamation.  I  could  not  speak  before  the  school. 
The  kind  and  excellent  Buckminster  sought  especially 
to  persuade  me  to  perform  the  exercise  of  declam- 
ation, like  other  boys,  but  I  could  not  do  it.  Many 
a  piece  did  I  commit  to  memory,  and  recite  and  re- 
hearse in  my  own  room,  over  and  over  again;  yet 
when  the  day  came,  when  the  school  collected  to 
hear  declamations,  when  my  name  was  called,  and 
I  saw  all  eyes  turned  to  my  seat,  I  could  not  raise 
myself  from  it.  Sometimes  the  instructors  frowned, 
sometimes  they  smiled.  Mr.  Buckminster  always 
pressed  and  entreated,  most  winningly,  that  I  would 
venture.  But  I  never  could  command  sufficient 
resolution. 

While  at  Dartmouth,  Webster  "was  not  only 
distinguished  for  his  attention  to  the  prescribed 
studies,  but  devoted  himself  to  general  reading, 
especially  to  English  history  and  literature. 
He  took  part  in  the  publication  of  a  little  week- 
ly newspaper,  furnishing  selections  from  books 
and  magazines,  with  an  occasional  article  from 
his  own  pen.  He  delivered  addresses,  also, 
before  the  college  societies,  some  of  which  were 
published." 

After  leaving  college,  during  his  preliminary 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW  305 

legal  studies,  Webster  committed  to  memory 
Mr.  Ames's  celebrated  speech  on  the  British 
treaty.  In  after  life  he  was  heard  to  say  that 
few  things  moved  him  more  than  the  perusal 
and  reperusal  of  that  speech.  He  also  gave 
much  time  to  general  reading,  particularly  to 
the  study  of  the  Latin  classics,  English  history, 
and  Shakespeare.1 

How  superb  were  the  results  of  this  training 
is  known  to  all  the  world.  It  may  be  worth 
while,  however,  to  quote  a  few  paragraphs  from 
Webster's  argument  in  the  famous  case  of  Gib- 
bons vs.  Ogden  to  illustrate  particularly  his 
masterly  method  of  stating  with  absolute  pre- 
cison  and  in  words  perfectly  luminous  the  ques- 
tion before  the  Court  for  decision. 

On  these  pleadings  the  substantial  question  is 
raised,  Are  these  laws  such  as  the  legislature  of  New 
York  has  a  right  to  pass?  If  so,  do  they,  secondly, 
in  their  operation,  interfere  with  any  right  enjoyed 
under  the  Constitution  and  laws  of  the  United 
States,  and  are  they  therefore  void,  as. far  as  such 
interference  extends? 

It  may  be  well  to  state  again  their  general  purport 
and  effect,  and  the  purport  and  effect  of  the  other 
State  laws  which  have  been  enacted  by  way  of  retal- 
iation. 

A  steam-vessel,  of  any  description,  going  to  New 
York,  is  forfeited  to  the  representatives  of  Living- 

1The  Works  of  Daniel  Webster.  Boston:  Charles  C. 
Little  and  James  Brown.     1851.    Vol.  i,  pp.  xxiii-xxviii. 


306  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

ston  and  Fulton,  unless  she  have  their  license.  Go- 
ing from  New  York  or  elsewhere  to  Connecticut,  she 
is  prohibited  from  entering  the  waters  of  that  State 
if  she  have  such  license. 

If  the  representatives  of  Livingston  and  Fulton  in 
New  York  carry  into  effect,  by  judicial  process,  the 
provision  of  the  New  York  laws,  against  any  citi- 
zen of  New  Jersey,  they  expose  themselves  to  a 
statute  action  in  New  Jersey  for  all  damages,  and 
treble  costs. 

The  New  York  laws  extend  to  all  steam-vessels; 
to  steam  frigates,  steam  ferry-boats,  and  all  inter- 
mediate classes.  They  extend  to  public  as  well  as 
private  ships;  and  to  vessels  employed  in  foreign 
commerce,  as  well  as  to  those  employed  in  the  coast- 
ing trade. 

The  remedy  is  as  summary  as  the  grant  itself  is 
ample;  for  immediate  confiscation,  without  seizure, 
trial,  or  judgment,  is  the  penalty  of  infringement. 

In  regard  to  these  acts,  I  shall  contend,  in  the  first 
place,  that  they  exceed  the  power  of  the  legislature; 
and,  secondly,  that,  if  they  could  be  considered 
valid  for  any  purpose,  they  are  void  still,  as  against 
any  right  enjoyed  under  the  laws  of  the  United 
States  with  which  they  come  in  collision;  and  that 
in  this  case  they  are  found  interfering  with  such 
rights. 

In  marked  contrast  with  such  exactness  of 
style,  the  misuse  of  language  by  lawyers  and 
judges  has  come  to  be  notorious.  The  follow- 
ing gem  is  found  in  Rule  29  of  the  General 
Rules  of  Practice  as  amended  by  the  Justices 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW  307 

assigned  to  the  Appellate  Division  in  conven- 
tion held  at  Albany  on  October  24,  1899: 

On  the  trial  of  issues  of  fact,  one  counsel  only  on 
each  side  shall  examine  or  cross-examine  a  witness, 
but  who  shall  not  repeat  the  answer  or  answers  of 
such  witness  at  the  time  he  shall  be  under  examina- 
tion, and  one  counsel  only  on  each  side  shall  sum  up 
the  cause,  and  he  shall  not  occupy  more  than  one 
hour,  and  the  testimony,  if  taken  down  in  writing, 
shall  be  written  by  some  person  other  than  the  ex- 
amining counsel;  but  the  judge  who  holds  the  court 
may  otherwise  order,  or  dispense  with  this  require- 
ment. 

Mr.  Justice  (now  Mayor)  Gaynor  often 
called  the  attention  of  the  profession  to  its 
deficiencies  in  the  elements  of  English,  more 
particularly  as  these  deficiencies  were  exhibited 
in  pleading.  The  following  are  a  few  quota- 
tions from  his  opinions: 

This  is  an  action  of  ejectment.  A  scientific  and 
proper  complaint  would  be  in  so  many  words  and 
no  more  that  the  plaintiffs  are  the  owners  in  fee  of 
the  property  and  entitled  to  the  immediate  posses- 
sion thereof,  and  that  the  defendants  are  in  unlaw- 
ful possession  thereof  and  unlawfully  withhold  the 
same  from  the  plaintiffs.  Under  this  anything  and 
everything  tending  to  show  title  and  right  of  pos- 
session in  the  plaintiffs  could  be  proved  upon  the 
trial.  Instead  of  such  a  complaint,  time  honored 
and  established,  we  have  here  a  long  complaint  of 
six  typewritten  pages  which  I  have  had  to  read  sev- 


308  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

eral  times  in  an  effort  to  understand  it.  It  con- 
sists mainly  of  allegations  of  fact  giving  a  history  of 
the  title,  and  of  claims  and  disputes  over  the  land  in 
question  for  many  years  between  various  persons 
[citing  case].  At  best  such  alleged  facts  are  evi- 
dence which  may  be  given  at  the  trial,  and  it  is  an 
old  and  wise  rule  that  the  evidence  should  not  be 
pleaded;  but  I  am  not  even  able  to  see  that  most  of 
them  will  be  competent  evidence. 

Irrelevant  and  redundant  matter  in  a  pleading 
may  be  struck  out  upon  the  motion  of  the  party 
"aggrieved  thereby"  (Code  Civ.  Pro.  sec.  545). 
These  allegations  are  irrelevant  in  the  main,  and  are 
certainly  redundant,  i.e.,  superfluous,  in  excess  of 
what  is  necessary,  superabundant,  as  the  definition 
of  the  word  is.  And  the  defendant  is  aggrieved  by 
them,  for  he  should  not  be  required  to  plead  to  mere 
items  of  evidence,  and  it  would  be  dangerous  and 
difficult  and  in  some  instances,  it  may  be,  impossible 
for  him  to  do  so. 

Also  the  trial  judge  should  be  protected  from  hav- 
ing such  a  pleading  put  before  him.  Pleading  has 
almost  become  a  lost  art  in  this  part  of  the  State,  and 
it  seems  very  difficult  to  restore  it  [citing  case]. 
Perhaps  some  inadvertent  observations  of  judges 
have  helped  to  make  it  such,  but  they  should  not 
be  conclusive  with  our  educated  bar.2 

This  answer  [set  out  above  in  full]  is  a  sample  of 
the  unscientific  and  degenerate  pleadings  which 
have  grown  to  be  common  in  this  part  of  the  State, 
fco  i  he  great  perplexity  and  annoyance  of  trial  judg- 
es.    It  takes  a  tedious  perusal  of  them  at  the  trial 

2  Brown  v.  Fish,  37  Misc.  367. 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW  309 

to  find  out  what  they  mean,  or,  as  is  most  usual, 
that  they  mean  nothing.  .  .  .  But  this  answer 
seems  to  be  framed  on  no  rule  or  theory  whatever. 
It  seems  to  have  been  drawn  by  a  layman,  except 
for  its  verbiage. 

It  starts  out  that  "For  a  first,  separate  and  dis- 
tinct defence"  it  (1)  "admits"  a  specified  allegation 
of  the  complaint,  and  (2)  "denies  each  and  every 
other  allegation  in  the  complaint  contained."  To 
say  a  "first"  defence  would  suffice.  To  add  that  it 
is  "separate  and  distinct"  can  only  be  from  a  habit  of 
useless  verbiage.  And  to  call  an  "admission"  a 
"defence"  is  strange  indeed.  An  admission  is  in 
fact  no  necessary  part  of  an  answer  at  all.  And  in- 
deed to  call  a  general  denial  a  "defence"  is  not  much 
better.  In  the  nomenclature  and  terminology  of 
pleading  a  denial  is  not  called  a  "defence"  but  a 
denial.  First  in  an  answer  comes  a  denial  or  de- 
nials, and  then  a  "defence,"  if  there  be  any,  i.e.,  an 
allegation  of  new  matter  which  cannot  be  given  in 
evidence  under  a  denial,  but  constitutes  a  defence, 
and  to  prove  which  the  burden  is  on  the  defendant 
[citing  cases].     .     .     . 

Then  comes  a  so-called  "fourth,  separate  and 
distinct  defence,"  to  which  the  foregoing  also  ap- 
plies. And  in  conclusion  it  may  be  said  that  the 
useless  use  of  these  words  "separate  and  distinct" 
does  not  seem  to  have  induced  the  pleader  to  be  at 
all  separate  or  distinct,  the  pleading  being  on  the 
contrary  a  confused  and  bungling  mass. 

An  answer  could  be  drawn  on  one  sheet  of  paper 
which  would  enable  the  defendant  to  give  in  evidence 
all  that  this  answer  stands  for,  viz.:  An  answer  in 


310  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

just  so  many  words  (1)  denying  each  and  every 
allegation  in  the  complaint  contained  except  that 
the  defendant  is  a  corporation,  and  then  pleading 
(2)  "for  a  defence"  that  the  publication  is  true,  viz., 
that  the  plaintiff  did  commit  adultery  with  the  said 
[naming  the  woman]  at  [giving  time  and  place]. 
Then  if  there  be  any  extrinsic  fact  known  to  the 
defendant  at  the  time  of  the  publication,  and  showing 
lack  of  malice,  which  could  not  be  given  in  evidence 
under  the  general  issue  it  could  be  pleaded  as  a  sec- 
ond defence,  i.  e.,  as  a  partial  defence,  i.  e.,  in  miti- 
gation of  smart  money  damage.8 

The  pleadings  here  are  a  fine  sample  of  the  way 
of  pleading  which  has  become  the  vogue  in  New  York 
County,  and  which  is  such  an  annoyance  to  trial 
judges.  It  is  quite  impossible  to  make  out  what 
issue  they  present  without  a  laborious  scrutiny  of 
them.  The  action  is  in  ejectment.  Instead  of  a 
complaint  in  scientific  form  that  the  plaintiff  is  the 
owner  and  entitled  to  the  possession  of  the  property, 
we  have  a  long  paper  called  a  complaint  which  pur- 
ports to  set  out  the  history  and  chain  of  the  plain- 
tiff's title,  which  is  a  matter  of  evidence  and  not  of 
pleading.  Then  comes  the  answer,  more  extra- 
ordinary still,  if  that  be  possible.  It  starts  out  by 
alleging  "for  a  first  defence"  that  the  "defendants 
admit  all  the  allegations  in  paragraph  first  of  said 
complaint."  What  kind  of  a  "defence"  is  an  "ad- 
mission"? A  defence  must  consist  of  new  matter, 
i.  e.,  matter  outside  of  what  can  be  proved  under  a 
denial,  such  as  a  general  release,  payment,  and  so 

3  Cruik.^hank  v.  Press  Publishing  Co.,  32  Misc.  152. 


ENGLISH  AND  THE  LAW  311 

on.  In  other  words,  a  defence  can  only  consist  of 
matter  which  the  defendant  has  to  affirmatively 
prove  [citing  authorities].  After  this  fashion  this 
answer  goes  on  to  dispose  of  the  complaint;  and 
then  it  sets  out  at  much  length  the  history  and  chain 
of  the  defendants'  title;  whereas  it  should  be  nothing 
but  a  denial  of  each  and  every  allegation  of  the  com- 
plaint, "  excepting"  etc.,  or  else  consist  of  specific 
denials  of  things  alleged;  and  everything  not  so 
denied  would  stand  as  admitted.  Then  comes  the 
so-called  reply.  Of  course  it  was  not  a  case  calling 
for  a  reply.  But  the  so-called  reply  is  even  longer 
than  the  complaint  or  the  answer,  being  nine  pages 
of  typewriting.  It  is  another  jumble  of  admissions, 
denials,  and  statements  of  evidence.  In  view  of  the 
fact  that  the  plaintiff  is  the  first  offender  in  these 
loose  and  unscientific  pleadings,  I  strike  out  the 
reply  only  for  the  sake  of  the  trial  judge;  and  I 
think  that  for  his  sake  the  complaint  and  answer 
should  also  be  superseded  by  scientific  pleadings. 
Then  he  will  know  at  a  glance  what  the  action  is  for 
and  what  the  issue  is,  and  will  find  out  the  facts 
by  listening  to  the  evidence.4 

These  illustrations  ought  not  to  be  surpris- 
ing in  view  of  the  attitude  of  certain  lawyers 
and  teachers  toward  the  study  of  language 
In  common  with  various  other  schemes  to  dis- 
cover a  royal  road  to  learning,  there  has  arisen 
much  talk  about  the  uselessness  of  broad,  liberal 
culture  for  the  lawyer,  and  even  of  adequate 
training  in  his  own  tongue.     It   is   true  that 

*  Mitnacht  v.  Hawthorne,  31  Misc.  378. 


312  HERBERT  L.  FORDHAM 

the  methods  of  practice  have  changed,  but 
the  need  of  precise  and  clear  English  has  grown 
no  less.  Indeed,  from  a  financial  and  commer- 
cial point  of  view,  it  has  grown  greater.  Mil- 
lions are  diverted  this  way  or  that  by  the  turn 
of  a  phrase.5  Lawsuits,  long,  wearisome,  and 
expensive,  are  avoided  or  made  necessary  by 
the  skill,  or  lack  of  it,  in  the  use  of  words  by 
lawyers.  Lawsuits  once  begun  are  sometimes 
lost  or  won  as  the  language  of  an  argument 
or  a  brief  is  verbose  and  confusing,  or  concise 
and  plain. 

The  truth  of  the  whole  matter  would  seem 
to  be  that  English  and  the  law  are  so  related 
that  instead  of  referring  to  the  study  of  English 
as  a  necessary  preliminary  to  the  study  of  the 
law,  it  would  be  more  nearly  accurate  to  de- 
scribe each  as  an  essential  part  of  one  study,  a 
study  which  must  continue  as  long  as  law  shall 
endure. 

5  This  statement  is  so  obviously  true  that  it  is  unnecessary 
to  cite  illustrations.  These  are  numberless,  but  could  not 
well  be  set  forth  in  a  paper  of  this  kind,  as  to  be  understood 
each  would  need  to  be  accompanied  with  a  cumbersome  state- 
ment of  facts.  A  conspicuous  example,  known  of  all  men, 
is  the  proposed  amendment  to  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  which  proposed  amendment  is  so  drawn  that  the 
Governor  of  our  State  tells  us  it  may  be  held  by  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States  to  mean  one  thing;  while  our  very 
able  Junior  Senator  assures  us  it  will  be  held  to  mean 
another. 


AN     INDEX    TO    THE     NON-BIBLICAL 

NAMES    IN    THE    ENGLISH 

MYSTERY     PLAYS 

BY  ANTOINETTE  GREENE,  PH.D. 

The  following  attempt  to  bring  together  for 
easy  reference  all  the  non-Biblical  names  of 
persons,  animals,  and  places  in  the  English 
mystery  plays  is  due  to  a  remark  of  Professor 
Hart's  that  such  a  collection  would  be  useful. 

Without  attempting  to  explain  many  curious 
forms,  I  have  made  my  chief  aim  the  complete- 
ness of  the  mere  list.  The  Early  English  Text 
Society's  editions  of  the  Towneley,  Digby,  and 
scattered  plays  are  supplied  with  lists  which, 
as  some  of  them  say,  do  not  aim  at  absolute 
completeness.  Hence,  although  I  gladly  ac- 
knowledge considerable  help  obtained  from 
these  lists,  the  names  have  in  all  cases  been 
gathered  from  the  text  itself.  Of  the  names 
in  the  three  other  great  cycles,  I  think  no  pre- 
vious collection  has  been  made. 

The  following  list  of  abbreviations  shows  also 
the  plays  examined  and  the  editions  used : 

C.  =  Ludus  CoventricB,  ed.  by  J.  0.  Halliwell,  London  1841. 
Printed  for  the  Shakespeare  Society. 


314  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Ch.  =  The  Chester  Plays,  ed.  by  T.  Wright,  London,  1843. 

Printed  for  the  Shakespeare  Society. 
D.  =  The  Digby  Plays.    Ed.  by  F.  J.  Furnivall.     London, 

1896.     E.  E.  T.  S.     Extra  Series  lxx. 
D.  (Herod)  =  Herod's  Killing  of  the  Children. 
D.  (St.  P.)  =  The  Conversion  of  St.  Paul. 
D.  (M.  M.)  =  Mary  Magdalene. 
D.  (B.  ofC.)  =  The  Burial  of  Christ. 

D.  (C.  R.)  =  Christ's  Resurrection. 

E.  =  The  Towneley  Plays  inG.  England's  edition,  published 

for  the  E.  E.  T.  S.,  London,  1897. 

fol.  =  following. 

Gloss,  means  that  the  information  is  taken  from  the  glos- 
sary of  the  edition  quoted. 

H.H.  =  The  Harrowing  of  Hell  and  Gospel  of  Nicodemus. 
Ed.  by  W.  H.  Hulme.  London,  1907.  E.  E.  T.  S. 
Extra  Series  c. 

Heading  means  the  announcement  of  the  speaker. 

ital.  means  the  stage  directions  printed  in  italics  on  the  page 
cited. 

NC.  =  The  Non-Cycle  Mystery  Plays,  etc.  Ed.  by  O.  Water- 
house.     London,  1909,  E.  E.  T.  S.  Extra  Series  civ. 

NC.  (Sh.  Pas.)  =  Shrewsbury  Fragments,  Officium  Past- 

orum. 
NC.  (Sh.  Res.)  =  Shrewsbury  Fragments,  Officium  Resurrec- 

tionis. 
NC.  (Sh.  Per.)  =  Shrewsbury  Fragments,  Officium  Peregri- 

norum. 
NC.  (Nor.)  =  Norwich  play:  Creation  of  Eve  and  the  Fall. 
NC.  (Newc.)  =  Newcastle  play  :  Noah's  Ship. 
NC.  (Dub.)  =  Dublin  play:    Abraham's  Sacrifice. 
NC.  (Br.)  =  Brome  play:  Abraham's  Sacrifice. 
NC.  (Crox.)  =  Croxton  Play  of  the  Sacrament. 
Nar.  of  Jos.  =  The  apocryphal  Narrative  of  Joseph  of  Ari- 

malhea. 
Nat.  of    M.  =  The  apocryphal  Gospel  of  the  Nativity   of 

Man/. 

Nic.  =  The  apocryphal  Gospel  of  Nicodemus,  trans.  Walker. 
Note  means  that  the  information  is  taken  from  the  explan- 
atory notes  of  the  edition  cited. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  315 

Prot.  of  J.  =  The  apocryphal  Protevangelium  of  James. 

Ps.-M.  =  The  apocryphal  Gospel  of  Pseudo-Matthew. 

Ref.  to=  Referred  to  in  the  following  instance. 

STCo.  =  The  Shearmen  and  Taylors'  Pageant.  In  Two  Cov- 
entry Corpus  Christi  Plays.  Ed.  by  H.  Craig,  Lon- 
don, 1902,  E.  E.  T.  S.   Extra  Series  lxxxviii. 

T.  =  The  Towneley  Mysteries,  published  by  the  Surtees 
Society,  London,  no  date  [1836]. 

WCo.  =  The  Weavers,  Pageant.  In  the  same  vol.  with  STCo. 

Y.  =  The  York  Plays,  ed.  by  Lucy  Toulmin  Smith,  Oxford, 
1885. 

*  prefixed  to  name  or  place  reference  means  the  character  is 
— or  is  in  the  case  cited — a  dramatis  persona. 

The  usual  references  to  books  of  the  Bible  are  given. 

The  translation  of  the  apocryphal  books  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment used  is  that  by  Alexander  Walker,  Edinburgh, 
T.  &  T.  Clark,  1890. 

The  Legend  of  the  Three  Kings  of  Cologne  from  the  Ms. 
Harl.  1704,  fol.  49,  vo.,  is  printed  at  the  end  of  the  sec- 
ond volume  of  The  Chester  Plays,  pp.  266-304. 

Abysakar    See  ysakar  and  fol. 

*Abi^achar  (Episcopus)  C.  xiv,  134  ital.  Cf. 

Abiathar  Ps.-M. 
*Affraunt  (Quartus  miles — at  tomb)  C.  xxxiv. 
Aginare    (the  land  of  the  third  mage)  STCo. 

25,  727.    See  Coleyn. 
Alapye    (a  country)  D.  (M.M.)  60,  158.    Ala- 

palli  or  Aleppi  in  India? 
Alexander,  strenger  than  NC.  (Crox.)  68,  352. 
Alyce     (mother  of  Tercius  pastor?)   T.  xn, 

90,  30    (E.,  app.  not  considered  a  proper 

name,  108,  260). 
Almayn  (Germany)    NC.  (Crox.)  57,  17. 
Almonye    C.  xxii,  210,  22.    Germany  rather 

than  the  Almon  of  Josh,  xxi,  18,  I  Chr. 

vi,  60? 


316  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Ameratjnt  (Seeundus  miles — at  the  tomb) 
C.  xxxtv.  Amorawnt  339,  3;  Amaraunt 
340,  5. 

Amys  (called  to  witness  against  Jesus)  Y. 
xxxiii,  324,  116.  Not  in  the  list  in  Nic.  i, 
where  his  place  seems  taken  by  Semes. 
In  Nic.  ii,  Amnes  (ms.  var.  Amese)  defends 
Jesus.  W.  H.  Hulme  {The  Harrowing  of 
Hell,  E.E.T.S.  Extra  Series  c,  Introd. 
p.  xx.)  says,  "  probably  an  invention  of 
the  dramatist." 

Anaballe  (a  suicide)  T.  xxv,  246,  27  (E. 
296,  106).    Prob.  Hannibal. 

Anna  or  Anne  (the  mother  of  Mary  the  Vir- 
gin). C.  Prol.  5,  16;  *vni,  70,  10;  *ix; 
*x;  xx,  195,  3;  T.  xi,  81,  23  (E.  98,  23); 
Y.  *xlvii,  492,  37;  D.  (Herod)  1,  2,  9, 
18;  seynt  Anne  2,  51;  22,  550;  23,  558. 

Arabia  (the  land  of  the  second  mage,  Melchior) 
Ch.  viii,  159,2;  Arabum  159,  ital.;  Araby 
T.  xiv,  122,  39  (E.  144,  120);  128,  15  (151, 
363);  Y.  xvn,  126,  16;  Arraby  (ma  genot 
named)  STCo.  25,  726.     Cf.  Coleyn. 

Aragon  C.  xxii,  210,  22;  NC.  (Crox.)  54, 
11;  56,  60;  57,  7;  58,  50;  63,  187  (Arigon); 
65,  261;  87,  after  927. 

a  Racali  Ch.  vi,  117,  25  =  Ara  Ceeli,  'Saint 
Mary  of  the  Altar  of  Heaven,'  an  old 
church  at  Rome. 

Akohage  (one  of  the  lands  of  the  third  mage, 
Jasper)  C.  xvn,  162,  29;  (offered  to  Jesus 
by  Satan)  C.  xxn,  210, 14. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  317 

Archas  (offered  to  Jesus  by  Satan)    C.  xxu, 

210,  22. 
Archedefell    Y.  xxxvn,  390,  308.    "Achito- 

phel"  Gloss.     But  at  least  influenced  by 

the  idea  arch-devil? 
Architreclyn,    at  the  feste  of  {i.e.,  at  Cana) 

T.    xxu,   207     (E.    " ruler    of  the  feast, 

mistaken  for  a  proper  name,"  248,  152). 

*Arfaxat  (Primus  miles — at  tomb)  C.  xxxiv. 
Arphaxat  339,  4.  The  name  itself  is  Bibli- 
cal, cf.  Gen.  x,  22,  etc. ;  Lu.  in,  36. 

*Arfexe  ("a  Sara^yn"  and  "masangere")  C. 
xxv,  245  ital. ;  246,  13. 

*Aristorius  (Christianus  mercator)  NC.  (Crox.) 

57  ff.    Arystory  57,  9;  67,  ital.;  Arystori  62, 

ital.;  Aristori  62,  ital.;  Aristorye  63,   186; 

Arystorius  83,  770;  65,  254. 
Armonye,  the  hyllys  of  (Armenia)  T.  in,  32, 

20  (E.  37,  466). 
Arnway,  Sir  John,  knighte    Ch.  Prol.  1,  5;  3, 

11.    See  Introd.  xvi,  xviii. 
Athus   (Pilate's  father,   from    etym.   Pila    + 

Atus)  T.  xxiv,  233,  19.    See  list  of  errata. 

(E.  279,  19  aius).AtusY.  xxx,  271, 14,  15. 

Austyne  (Saint  Augustine)    Ch.  xn,  210,  23. 
Ave  (Salutation,  pun  on  Eva)    C.  xi,  112,  15. 
Babwell  Myll  (name  of  a  mill)    NC.  (Crox.) 

74,  541. 
Baggeley,  John  (a  master  of  the  "taylars  and 

sharmen")    STCo.  31,  after  900.  * 


318  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Bakbytere  (Secundus  detractor)  C.  xiv,  132, 

14;  133,  5. 
Bakere     See  Bette. 
Balacher    Ch.  xxiv,  174,  5.    Name  of  fiend 

or  =  Bacheler? 
*Balta^are    (first    mage)     C.    xvn,    162,    5. 

Balcsare    Ch.    ix,    171,    3;    (third  mage) 

Balthesar  T.  xiv,  123,   34   (E.  145,   159) ; 

Balthasar  (second  mage)  STCo.  25,  726; 

26,  751.    See  Coleyn. 
Belfagour  (demon)     D.  (M.M.)  82,  725. 
Belle    See  Betrys. 

Bertylmew  the  Bochere    C.  xiv,  131,  116. 
Betrys  Belle    C.  xiv,  131,  113. 
Bette  the  Bakere    C.  xiv.  131,  124. 
Blackon,  Butter  that  boughte  was  in  Ch.  vn, 

123,  7. 
Blomefylde,  Myles  (poet)     D.   (St.  P.)  27, 

heading. 
Bochere    See  Bertylmew. 
*Boosras  (Primus  pastor)  C.   xvi,   156,  123. 

Boosdras  158,  14. 
Boutyng  the  Browstere     C.  XIV,  132,  3. 
Braban  (Brabant)     NC.   (Crox.)  57,   18;  72, 

453;  73,  486. 
Brentberecly    See  Brundyche. 
Brewbarret  (Cain's  servant  =  stir  up  strife) 

Y.  vii.    Note,  "later  addition." 
Brytayn  (Britain)     NC.  (Crox.)  57,  18. 
Browstere    See  Boutyng. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  319 

*Brundyche,  Master  (M  [agister]  Phisicus) 
NC.  (Crox.)  73,  493;  87;  Brendyche  72, 
453;   Brentberecly  74,  529. 

burnell  (Balaam's  ass)     Ch.  v,  84,  25 ;  85,  21. 

Cadace  wolle  C.  xxv,  241,  27.  =  " Cadiz." 
Gloss. 

Cakelere    See  Kytt. 

Calabere  C.  xxv,  242,  27.  =  "cloth  of  Cala- 
bria." Gloss.    Calabre  NC.  (Crox.)  57,  18. 

♦Calcas  (Herod's  herald)  STCo.  19,  521. 

Calyce  (Calais)    NC.  (Crox.)  73,  510. 

Capyll,  oure  hen  T.  xm,  99,  36  (E.  118,  67). 
Imitative,  as  "  cackle?" 

Caton  ( =  Cato)  C.  xx,  189,  22.  T.  xn,  94, 
17    (E.  112,392). 

Cattlyngis  (Catalauni,  inhabitants  of  15th 
cent.  Luxembourg)  NC.  (Crox.)  58,  26. 

*Cecus  (a  blind  man)  Ch.  xiii;  Y.  xxv. 

Ceecylle  ( =  Sicily)  T.  xvi,  141,  10  (E.  167, 
44  Cecylle). 

Cenacle  C.  Prol.  17,  19.  The  upper  room  of 
the  Last  Supper,  in  Vulgate,  e.g.,  ccena- 
culum  Mk.  xiv,  15. 

Chester  Abbey  Ch.  Pro.  1,  7. 

Chester,  the  plays  of   Ch.  Pro.  Heading. 

Christianitie  Ch.  iv,  61,  26.  Christiantie 
xxv,  184,  20. 

♦Claud us  (a  lame  man)  G.  xxv,  212,  358-375; 
213,  380-391.     =Lat.  adj.  "lame." 

*Clennes  (one  of  Mary's  maidens  in  the  tem- 
ple)    C.  ix,  86, 12.    See  Meditacion. 


320  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

*Cleo[phe]  (Maria  Cleophas,  i.e.,  mother  of 
Cleophas)  Y.  xxxvi,  364, 176.  D.  (B.  of  C.) 
192,  612;  (C.  R.)  202,  918  (Mary  Magda- 
lene's "sister"!)  Cf.  Nic.  xi.  Cf.  also  Joh. 
xix,  25. 

Clyde    See  Conwaye. 

Cok  Crane  C.  xiv,  131,  121. 

Colett  Crane  C.  xiv,  131,  117. 

Coleyn,  the  Kynges  of.  C.  Prol.  8,  5.  The 
kings  of  Cologne,  the  three  magi  in  mediaeval 
legend.  Cf.  The  Legend  of  the  Three 
Kings  of  Cologne,  Ms.  Harl.  1704  fol.  49, 
printed  in  notes,  Here  Melchior  is  king 
of  Nube,  Arabie,  Baltazar  of  Godolye  and 
Saba,  Jasper  of  Taars.  Countries  in  Ps. 
lxxii,  10,  15  are  Tarshish,  the  isles,  Sheba, 
Seba.    Coleyn  NC.  (Crox.)  57,  19. 

Colkote     See  Tolkote. 

Colle  (one  of  the  shepherds — first?)  T.  xm, 
110,  6,  19  (E.  130,  436,  449).  '  But  cf. 
Parkyn  etc.,  113,  278  (E.  134,  562). 
Y.  xv,  119,  39;  120,  54  (name  of  the  third 
shepherd).  Col(le  (pe  lechys  man)  NC. 
(Crox.)  71,  445. 

*Colle  Crakecrust    C.  XIV,  131,  123. 

*Compassyon  (one  of  Mary's  maidens  in  the 

temple)  C.  ix,  86,  12.    See  Meditacion. 
*Contemplacio  (an  expositor)  C.  vm;  ix,  79, 

89;  xi,   105-106;  xm,   124-5,   129-30;  C- 

xxix,  289. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  321 

*Contryssyon  (one  of  Mary's  maidens  in  the 
temple)  C.  ix,  86, 12.    See  Meditacion. 

Conwaye  unto  Clyde    Ch.  vii,  119,  5. 

cope    See  Jak. 

Copyn,  Kyng  (satirical  term  flung  by  Cayphas 
at  Jesus)  T.  xxi,  194,  21.  "A  coppin  is  a 
certain  quantity  of  worsted  yarn  wound 
on  a  spindle  and  the  spindle  then  extracted." 
Gloss.  (E.  233,  166.)  Coppyn,  sentt,  D. 
(M.  M.)  99,  1151. 

Corbett,  Hev  ( =  Hugh)  (one  of  the  masters 
of  the  "taylars  and  sharmen")  STCo., 
31,  after  900. 

cordewan  C.  xxv,  241,  19.  "Cordovan,  a 
Spanish  leather  from  Corduba."    Gloss. 

*Cosdram  (Tertius  miles — at  the  tomb)  C. 
xxxiv.    Cosdran  342,  9. 

*covetyse  (one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins)  D. 

(M.M.)  66,  heading. 
Crakecrust   See  Colle. 
Crane    See  Cok  and  Colett. 
Cratjener    See  Grauener. 
crokyd  thorne  (a  tree  known  as  a  landmark) 

T.  xiti,  109,  6.     See  Preface,  p.  xv.     (E. 

129,  403.) 

Croo,  Robart  (corrector  of  the  play,  March 
14,  1534)  STCo.  31,  after  900;  (translator 
of  the  play,  March  2,  1534)  WCo.  70,  after 
1192.  Cf.  Appendix  89,  8;  99,  31 ;  100,  12- 
13;  100,  24;  101,  18;  102,  6. 


322  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Croxston  NC.  (Crox.)     56,   74.    Cf.  Introd. 

p.  lxiii. 
Curiosity  (a  dandy)    D.  (M.  M.),  73  heading; 

also  spelled  coryoste,  corioste,  coryossyte  74, 

511 ;  called  pryde  75,  550. 
Cyrus  (the  father  of  Maiy  Magdalene)     D. 

(M.M.)  57,  55;  syrus  56,  after  48. 
♦Dandy  Curiosity  D.  (M.  M.)  73  heading. 

Datan  (called  to  witness  against  Jesus)  Y. 
xxxiii,  323,  114.  Cf.  Nic.  I,  i.  The  name 
itself  is  Biblical.   Cf.  Ps.  cvi,  17,  etc. 

Davy  Drydust    C.  xiv,  131,  121. 

*Daw  (Tercius  pastor)  T.  xm,  101,  3  (E. 
121,  154). 

*Declaracion  (priest  appointed  to  teach  Mary) 
C.  ix,  86,  26.    See  Dyvynacion. 

Deey  (=  river  Dee)  Ch.  Prol.  3,  29.  Dde 
Ch.  vii,  8,  4. 

*Deliberacion  (priest  appointed  to  teach 
Mary)  C.  ix,  86,  24.    See  Dyvynacion. 

*Denmarke  (given  by  Antichrist  to  the  second 
king)  Ch.  xxiv,  159,  3.  Denmark  NC. 
(Crox.)  57, 20. 

*Determynacion  (priest  appointed  to  teach 
Mary)  C.  ix,  86,  26.    See  Dyvynacion. 

*Devocion  (priest  appointed  to  teach  Mary) 
C.  ix,  86,  24.    See  Dyvynacion. 

*Dewcus  (Primus  dux)  Y.  xxxi,  301,  256. 

Dylexcion  (priest  appointed  to  teach  Mary) 
C.  ix,  86,  24.    See  Dyvynacion. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  323 

Dyscressyon  (priest  appointed  to  teach  Mary) 

C.  ix,  86,  24.    See  Dyvynacion. 
Dysmas  (the  believing  thief)     C.  xxxn,  315, 

5;  316,  5.  Cf.  Nic.  I,x,  II,  x.  (Dismas) 
and  Nar  of  Jos.    i,  in    (Demas). 

Dyvynacion  (one  of  the  "sefne  prestys"  to 
whom  was  given  the  charge  of  Mary  in 
the  temple)  C.  ix,  86,  26.  Not  spoken  of 
in  the  apocryphal  gospels  which  give  the 
account  of  the  maidens. 

*Dolor    NC.  (Nor.  B.)  17,  111. 

Dolphin,  prince  of  the  dead  NC.  (Newc.) 
25,  204. 

Don  (a  horse)  T.  n,  18,  19  (E.  21,  438); 
is  in  the  myre  T.  xxx,  310,  22  (E.  373, 
205). 

Done  (  =  Don)    See  Rondall. 

Donnyng  (a  horse)    T.  n,  8,  32  (E.  10,  32). 

Dordrede  (Dordrecht)     NC.  (Crox.)  57,  20. 

Dottinoule  (a  dog)     Ch.  vn,  125,  16. 

Douvr  (Dover)     NC.  (Crox.)  73,  510. 

Down  (a  horse)    T.  n,  8,  29  (E.  10,  29). 

dragon  pe  dere  (used  as  the  name  of  a  fiend) 

D.  (M.  M.)  102,  1243. 
Drydust   See  Davy. 

duch  ax  (Dutch)  T.311,  19,  17  (E.  374,  242). 
Eliz[abeth]  (queen)  NC.  11  Heading  to  Nor.  B. 
*envy  (one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins)  D.   (M. 

M.)  68fT.;  NC.  (Nor.  B.)  17,  136. 
Eraclea  (Heraclea,   here  a  city  in  Aragon) 

NC.  (Crox.)  54,  12;  57,  6;  59,  58;  60, 114. 


324  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Erlonde  (Ireland)     C.  xxn,  210,  25. 
Farre  ("  Faroe?")    NC.  (Crox.)  58,  22. 
Fetyse    See  Gylle. 
Flascon,  Mownt    T.   xvi,    141,  12    (E.  167, 

46). 
Flecchere    See  Phelypp. 
*flesch,  kyng  of  pe    D.  (M.M.)  66  heading, 

ft. ;  flych  p.  75,  directions. 
France    Ch.  xn,  209,  23;  Fraunce  Ch.  xiv, 

17,  16;ffraunce  xxn,  210,  19;  France    NC. 

(Crox.)  58,  22. 

Frensche,  after  the  F.  gyse  C.  xn,  118,  31; 
Franche  (the  language)  T.  xvi,  153,  9  (E. 
181,  513    fraunsch). 

*Froward  (a  servant)  T.  xxi;  Frawrord  199, 

13  (E.  239,  345). 
*Fruyssyon   (one  of  Mary's  maidens  in  the 

temple)  C.  ix,  86,  13.  See  Meditacion. 
Galys,  the  towne  of  (Calais)  C.  xxn,  210,  23. 
Galys   (Galicia)     NC.  (Crox.)   57,  15;  galles, 

wyn  of  D.  (M.M.)  72,  478. 
*Gamalyel    (accuses    and  taunts   Jesus)    C. 

xxvni ;  Gamaliell  (called  to  witness  against 

Jesus)  Y.  xxxm,  323,  114.   Cf.  Nic.  I,i. 

The  name  itself  is  Biblical;  cf.  Acts  v,  34; 

Nu.  i,  10,  etc. 
Geffrey  Gyle    C.  xiv,  131,  9. 
Gene  (Genoa)    NC.  (Crox.)  57,  15. 
Genewaye  (Geneva?)     NC.  (Crox.)  57,  15. 
Gestas    See  Jesmas. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  325 

Gyb  (Primus  pastor)    T.  xn,  86,  2,  3  (E.  102, 

82,   83);   T.   xm,    114,  22  (E.  135,  590). 

See  fol. 
Gybon  Waller  (Primus  pastor)    T.  xm,  113, 

27  (E.  134,  562). 
Gyg  (  =  Gyb?)  T.  xn,  88,  17    (E.  105,  169). 
GiTLE,  Syr  (addressed  to  Mak)  T.  xm,  109,  11 

(E.  129,408).=  Guile? 

Gyle,  Sant    T.  xxvn,  276,  30  (E.  334,  278). 

Evid.  Saint  Giles. 
Gyle    See  Geffrey. 

Gille  (Noah's  wife)  T.  in,  25,  38  (E.  29, 
219):  Gylle  (Mak's  wife)  *T.  xm.  "Short 
for  Gillian."  Gloss.    But  see  Jelott. 

Gylle  Fetyse    C.  xiv,  131, 118. 

Gille,  Gylle    See  also  Jak(ke. 

*gloteny  (one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins)  D. 
(M.M.)  67,  heading. 

GOBBETTE   ONE   THE   GREENE    (Preco)      Ch.    IV, 

57,  13. 

Gog  "perversion  of  God."  Gloss.  T.  n,  12, 
7    (E.  14,  172). 

Gold  Ebryson  D.  (Herod)    1,  14. 

Gotham,  the  foles  of.  "  A  parish  in  Notting- 
hamshire .  .  .  The  simplicity  of  its 
inhabitants  is  said  to  have  been  stimulated 
to  avert  a  king's  anger."  Cent.  Book  of 
Names.    T.  xn,  88,  29    (E.  106,  180). 

Grauener,  Thomas  ("consul")  STCo.  31, 
before  songs.    Note:  Ms.  M.  has  Crauener. 


326  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Gkegokye  (i.e.,  Pope  G.)    Ch.  xn,  206,  28;  207, 

14. 
Greyn-horne   (an  ox)   T.   n,   8,   25     (E.    10, 

25). 
*Grobbe    (shipman's    boy)     D.     (M.M.)    99, 

1153  and  ff.,  named  119,  1717;  126,  1876. 
Grw  (the  Greek  language)    C.  xix,  179,  22. 
*Grymbalde  (Primuz  miles)    Ch.  x,  174,  4;  in 

Ms.    H.    2124    Secundus    miles    is    Sir 

Grymball  Launcher  deppe;  in  Ms.  H.  2124 

Primus  miles  is  Sir  Waradrake.    Note. 
Gryme  (horse,   "prob.   black")   T.   n,   8,   25 

(E.  10,  25). 
Gudeboure  Bery  me  in.     T.  n,   16,  29     (E. 

19,  367). 
Gyldre    (Guelderland)    NC.    (Crox.)  58,    25; 

gyldyr,  wyn  of   D.  (M.  M.)  72,  478. 
Gylle    See  Gille. 
Halton,  ale  of.    Ch.  vn,  123,  9. 
Hamborowhe  (Hamburg)    NC.  (Crox.)  58,24. 
*Hancken  (Primus  pastor)    Ch.  vu,  122, 10, 11 ; 

124,  15;  128,  10. 
*Harry  Ruskyne  (Tutivillus)  T.  xxx,  319,  1 

(E.  384,  535). 
*Harvye  (Secundus  pastor)  Ch.  vu,  120,  18; 

(spoken  by  Quartus  Judeus  to  one  of  his 

companions)  Ch.  xvi,  47,  21. 
*Hawkyn  (priest's  clerk)  D.  (M.  M.)  99,  1143. 
Hely  (written  kely  and  cor.  on  p.  xix  =  Ely), 

good   aylle  of     T.  xn,  90,  15      (E.    108, 

244  hely). 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  327 

Herre  (Harry)    See  Pyxley. 

Hev   See  Corbett. 

Hewyt,    James     (name    after    second    song) 

WCo.  71.    Cf.  references  in  the  Weavers' 

account-book  given  in  appendix  n:   102, 

18  James  Huyt;  107,  14-16  and  45  James 

Hewet(t). 
Hob-over-the-wall    T.  II,  15,  2    (E.  17,  297). 
Holond,  A  shert   of  fyn.     C.  xxv,   241,  23. 

Holond    NC.  (Crox.)  58,  24. 
Homere    T.  xvi,  144,  40    (E.  172,  202). 
Hongarye  (given  by  Antichrist  to  the  third 

king)   Ch.  xxiv,  159,  3. 
Horbery  ( =  Harbury,  a  village  near  Wake- 
field.   Cf.  p.  xv.)  T.  xiii,  110,  26    (E.  130, 

455). 
*Horne,  John  (Secundus  pastor)  T.  xn,  86, 

4  (E.  103,  84);  T.  xm,  113,  28  (134,  563). 
hudde    (Secundus   pastor?)    Y.  xv,    119,   37; 

120,  46.     Printed  as  an  exclamation,  but 

both  times  addressed  to  the  same  shepherd, 

and  cf .  Colle,  Ttjdde. 
Hyse,  sante    Ch.  xxv,  189,  5. 
Ynde,  Thomas  of  (Thomas,  the  apostle)  C. 

Prol.  17,  2.     Indas  lycorys    NC.    (Crox.) 

60,  104. 
Yngland  T.  xiii,  107,  28  (E.  127,  353). 
Ypotan  (one  of  the  lands  of  the  third  mage 

Jasper.)  C.  xvu,  162,  29. 
*Ysakar  (Episcopus)   C.  vin.    Isaker,  73  it al.; 

Isakar,   C.   ix,   80,   31;    Ysakare,  88,   30; 

Isakare,  89,  7.    Cf .  Nat.  of  M.  I :  Isaschar. 


328  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

*Ysakar  (episcopus)  C.  x,  90  "Tunc  venit  ab 
Isakar  episcopus."  Note:  "Sic  in  ms.  pro 
Abysakar."  But  same  man  as  in  previous 
play;  and  Isaschar  in  Nat.  of  M.  I.    . 

*Ysodyr  (Presbiter)  NC.  (Crox.)  first  named 
62  ital. ;  Isydor,  62,  153;  Isodyr,  65,  243: 
Isoder,  65,  264. 

Jacobi    See  Maria. 

*Jak  (Garcio)    T.  xn. 

Jak:  Hors  man  Jak  cope  T.  xn,  84,  17 
(E.  101,  17).  Jak  at  the  Style  C.  xiv, 
131,  111.  For  Jaknorfor  Gille  T.  in,  28, 
38  (E.  33,  336) ;  Jakke  and  Gylle  C.  xxxv, 
340, 10. 

James    See  Hewyt. 

Jane,  fayr  C.  xiv,  131,  118. 

Jannense  (realm)     C.  xxii,  210,  15. 

Janettes  of  the  stewys  T.  xxx,  314,  14  (E. 
378,  350). 

^arus  Y.  xxxin,  323, 113.  (Called  to  witness 
against  Jesus.)    Cf.  Nic.  I,  i,  Jairus. 

*Jasper  (third  mage)  C.  xvn,  163,  3;  (second) 
Ch.  ix,  171,  l;Jaspar  (first)  T.  xiv,  123,  3 
(E.  144,  126);  Jaspar  (first)  STCo.  26, 
750;  Jespar  25,  725.    See  Coleyn. 

*Jazdun  NC.  (Crox.)  60, 110;  61, 129  ff.;  Jasdon, 
67,  305,  list  on  p.  87. 

*Jazun  NC.  (Crox.)  60,  110;  Jasun,  61,  125 
ff . ;  Jason,  67,  305,  list  on  p.  87.  The  name 
itself  is  Biblical;  cf.  Acts  xvn,  5. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  329 

jelian  jowke    T.    xxx,   313,   23    (E.   Jelian 

Jowke  377,  317  =  Gillian  Clown). 
Jelott    (Mak's   wife)    T.   xiit,     106,    26    (E. 

122,  316). 
Jenyse  (place)    NC.  (Crox.)  57,  15. 
Jerome,  Sainte    Ch.  xxm,  147,  21. 
*Jesmas  (unbelieving  thief)  C.  xxxn,  315,  5; 

316,  7.    Nic.  I,  x,  II,  x;  Nar.  of  Jos.  i  and 

in  have  Gestas:  m  borrowed  from  Dysmas? 
*Joachym    C.  viii,  ix,  x.    Ref.  to  C.  Prol.  5, 16; 

xx,  195,  3;  T.  xi,  81,   22     (E.  98,   22). 

Cf.    Nat.    of   M.,    Ps.-M.;     NC.    (Crox.) 

68,  331. 
Johanes   See  Whitehead. 
John  Jurdon   C.  xiv  131,  9. 
*John,  Sir  (one  of  the  soldiers,  prob.  the  first) 

Ch.  x,  184,  26. 
John     See     Arnway,     Baggeley,     Horne, 

Parfre. 
*Johns  C.  viii,  73,  22. 
Jonathas  (the  Jewe)     NC.  (Crox.)  57  heading; 

59,  69  ff . ;  Jhonathas   62, 165. 
Joins  Y.  xvi,  121,  2. 
Judas  Y.  xxxiii  323,  113  (called  to  witness 

against  Jesus).    Cf.  Nic.  I,  i. 
Jurdon    See  John. 
*Justicta  (one  of  the  four  daughters  of  God) 

C.  xi.    Ryghtwysnes  108,  6;  Ryght  109,  2. 
Kate  Kelle    C.  xiv,  131,  115. 
kely    See  Hely. 
Kemp  towne  T.  xvi,  141,  13.    Kempten,  i.e., 

Campodunum?    (E.  167,  47.) 


330  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Kent,   Sant    Thomas    of     T.  xiii,    110,    28 

(E.  131,  458). 
Kenye,  Dame  Ch.  vn,  122,  8.     Wife  of  Ter- 

cius  Pastor? 
kyrchon    (woman's    name)    D.     (M.M.)    99, 

1161. 
Kytt  Cakelere     C.  xiv,  131,  117. 
Lachborun  (Luxemburg)    NC.  (Crox.)  58,  33. 
Lancaster  shire,  a  jannacke  of   Ch.  vn,  123, 

12. 
*Lancler  =  Sir  Lander  depe  (Secundus  miles) 

Ch.  x,  174,  4  (In  Ms.  H.  Launclet.    Note); 

Lanscler  depe,  175,  7  (In  Ms.  H.  Launder) ; 

Sir  Lanchler  depe,  179,  14.    See  also  Grym- 

balde. 
Latine  (the  language)    Ch.  xxv,  196,  15. 
lechery  (one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins)    D.  (M. 

M.)  70,  422,  etc.  see  luxuria. 
Lemyng  ("an  ox  beaming"),  T.  ii,  9.  6  (E  10, 

42  "a  horse"). 
Letyce  Lytyltrust     C.  xiv,  131,  122. 

Leui  (called  to  witness  against  Jesus)  Y. 
xxxn,  324,  115.    Cf.  Nic.  i. 

Leuyathan,  pe  fend  callyd  NC.  (Crox.)  83, 
803.  This  occurs  in  Job  xli,  1,  but  possi- 
bly not  as  a  proper  name. 

*Leyon  (one  of  two  "temperal  jewgys")  C- 
xxv,  246,  2;  Leon,  1.9;  Lyon,  1.  15;  Leyom 

XXVII,  XXVIII. 

Lyere    See  luce. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  331 

*Lightborne  (supposed  tr.  of  Lucifer)  Ch.  i, 
10,  11. 

*Lyghtfote  (Nuncius)    T.  ix,  68,  20  (E.  81,  97). 

Limbo  Y.  xxxvii,  383,  187;  Lymbo,  T.  xxv, 
246,  16  (E.  296,  96);  249,  5    (E.  300,  213). 

Lytyltrust    See  Letyce. 

Lollar,  master  (=  Lollard)  T.  xxx,  310,  32 
(E.  374,  213). 

Lombardye  (given  by  Antichrist  to  the  first 
king)  Ch.xxiv,  159,  2;  Lumbardye,  xxn, 
210,  20.  Lombardy  NC.  (Crox.)  58,  33. 

London   Ch.  vn,  145,  7;  xvi,  47,  7. 

*Longeus  C.  xxxiv  (Longeys  334  ital.  etc.); 
Ch.  xvn,  66  (Longyus,  66  heading,  Longes, 
66,  11;  Longius,  66  ital.);  T.  xxm;  Y. 
xxxvi,  368,  291.  Ref.  to  in  C.  Prol.  14, 
20  and  T.  xxvm,  289,  16;  291,  18  (E.  348, 
259;  351,  314).  The  blind  knight  who 
pierces  Jesus  with  a  spear.  In  Nic.  x.  in 
some  mss.  but  not  spoken  of  as  blind.  Cf. 
Boll.  Acta  SS.,  Mar.  n,  384.) 

Louth  (the  town  Louth)    Ch.  vn,  145,  7. 

Lucas  (called  to  witness  against  Jesus)  Y. 
xxxin,  324, 115.  Nic.  I,  i.  does  not  include 
this  name.  W.  H.  Hulme  in  The  Harrowing 
of  Hell,  etc.,  E.  E.  T.  S.  Extra  Series  100, 
Introd.  p.  xx.  says,  "prob.  an  invention 
of  the  dramatist." 

Luce  Lyere     C.  xiv,  130,  22. 

*Lucifer  C.  I  (21,  10  Lucyfere;  21,  19,  Lucyfer)  ; 
xxv,  239,  1,  (1.  16  "berere  of  lyth";  Ch.  r 


332  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

(Luciffier)  ;xxv,  239, 1 ;  T.  i ;  Y.  i.  Referred  to 
in  C.  Prol.  2,  3  (Lucyfer) ;  xxn,  207, 1  (Lucy- 
(fer) ;  xi,  106,  24  (Locyfere) ;  Ch.  Prol.  3,  19; 
vii,  141,  10  (Luciffier) ;  x,  186,  21  and  xn, 
206,  26  and  xvm,  81,  18  and  xxn,  129,  19 
and  xxiv,  174,  4  (Lucifier);  T.  in,  20,  16 
(E.  23,  16);  xx,  184,  27  (E.  221,  530); 
187,  18  and  xxv,  246,  33  (E.  296,  113) 
(Lucyfer);  xvi,  143,  21  (E.  170,  143) (Lucy- 
fere);  Y.  xxxi,  294,  56;  310,  106;  H.  H. 
Auchinleck  ms.  13,  151;  D.  (St.  P.)  43,  413 
(Lucyfer). 

Lumbardye    See  Lombard  ye. 

luxuria  (one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins)  D. 
(M.M.)  67 ff.;  lechery,  70, 422, etc.;  luxurya, 
71,  heading.    Luxsurya,  72,  heading. 

Lyn  (town  of  Lynn)  T.  xxiv,  236,  34  (E.  283, 
155). 

Mabyle,  fayr   C.  xiv,  131,  110. 

Madroke  STCo.  17,490.  "  Magog  and  Mad- 
roke  did  I  (i.e.,  Herod)  confownde." 

Mahound(e  (=  Mahomet),  also  spelled 
Mahownd(e,  Mahown(e  and  Mahond(e.  The 
name  is  used  in  nearly  all  ways  in  which 
we  commonly  use  the  name  of  God. 
By  M.  C.  xvm,  164,  7;  xix,  185,  29;  xxx, 
304,  7;  Ch.  vi,  103, 10;  vm,  156,  25;  158, 15; 
161,  12;  x,  178,  5;  xxv,  197,  15;  199,  5; 
200,  3;  T.  ix,  66,  9  (E.  78,  9);  71,  18  (E.  85, 
226);  xvi,  143,  5  (E.  169,  127);  151,  4  (E. 
179,  429);  xx,  186,  44  (E.  224,  631);  187, 


\ 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  333 

14  (E.  224,  645);  xxii,  203,  3  (E.  243,  3); 
215,  3  (E.  257,  408);  xxm,  217,  8  (E.  259, 
44.);  xxiv,  234,4  (E.  280,  50);  236,  43,  44 
(E.  284,  164,  5);  239,  26  (E.  287,  267); 
Y.  xix,  147,  15;  xxxiv,  338,  34;  D.  (Herod) 
6,  127;  12,  291;  14,  341;  STCo.  19,  528; 
28,  805.  By  M.'s  blood  T.  ix,  69,  28  (E. 
82,  148);  xx,  174,  42  (E.  207,  116);  175,  5 
(E.  208,  124);  175,  38  (E.  209,  157);  xxn, 
209,  32  (E.  251,  238);  xxm,  216,  14  (E. 
258,  14);  xxiv,  242,  29  (E.  291,370);  Y. 
xxxi,  301,  245;xxxn,  311, 125;  D.  (Herod) 
14,  343;  (M.M.)  100,  1175;  for  M.'s  blood 
Y.  xxxiv,  338,  34;  xxxv,  351,  61;  470, 
155;  by  the  bloode  pat  M.  bledde  Y.  xxxi, 
292,  8;  299,  204;  by  M.'s  bones  T.  xxiv, 
234,  4  (E.  290,  331);  D.  (M.M.)  60,  142; 
M.'s  own  yee-lyds  D.  (M.M.)  102,  1237; 
M.'s  own  nekkebon  D.  (M.M.)  102,  1233; 
M.pebodyB.  (M.M.)  102,  1243;  by  M.'s 
might  T.  ix,  69,  42  (E.  83,  162);  xxn,  214, 
22  (E.  257,  390) ;  Y.  xxix.  264,  267;  for  M.'s 
peyne  Y.  xliv,  467,  73.  For  M.  Y.  xxix, 
254,267;xxxv,351, 129;/or  M.'ssake  T.xx, 
186,  44  (E.  224,  631);  D.  (Herod)  6,  136; 
byM.'sgrace.  D.  (M.M.)  101, 1209.  AsM.me 
mende  T.  xxvi,  267, 13  (E.  323, 557) ;  /  mak 
avow  to  M.  C. xl,  395, 23 ;  T.  xxiv,  235, 21  (E. 
282,97).  TheblyssyngofM.  T.  xxvi,  267, 
18  (E.  323,  562);  Y.  xxxn,  311,  125;  M. 
save  you  {and  se)  Ch.  vin,  152,  5;  T.  ix,  69, 


334  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

7,  31;  (E.  82,  127;  83,  151);  T.  xiv,  126,  1 
(E.  148,  259);  127,  34  (E.  151,  337);  xxvi, 
265,  31  (E.  321,  494);  Y.  xvn,  129,  101-2; 
xix,  148,  73;  154,  242;  M.  be  with  thee  Ch. 
x,  174,  1 ;  M.  kepe  you  Ch.  x,  173,  5;  M.  the 
shelde  T.  xiv,  127,  32  (E.  151,  235) ;  M.  you 
looke  T.  128,  7  (E.  151,  355);  M.  meng  you 
with  myrthe  T.  xvi,  140,  1  (E.  166,  1); 
M.  mensk  you  with  mayn  T.  238,  24  (E.  286, 
226);  M.  menske  you  with  myght  Y.  xxx, 
291,  543;  you  bryng  where  he  is  lord  T.  xvi, 
151,  33  (E.  179,  458-9);  M.  wyse  the  on  thi 
way  T.  ix,  69,  2  (E.  82,  122) ;  M.  let  you 
never  thryfe  T.  xiv,  130,  32  (E.  155,  467-8). 
My  lord  M.,  I  pray  the  D.  (Herod)  16,  385,; 
/  pray  god  M.  D.  (M.M.)  99,  1168;  pray 
to  M.  C.  xxn,  207,  7;  Heyfup  youre  hertes 
unto  M.  T.  vni,  65,  15  (E.  77,  412) ;  Y.  xi, 
91,  401 ;  Helpe  MA  Y.  xxxvn,  369,  343.  M. 
This  ston  Thou  kepe  C.  xxxv,  343,  19.  A 
Mahowne!  T.  xvi,  152,  11  (E.  473,  180). 
Sweth  M.,  remembyr  me  D.  (M.M.)  101, 
1221.  As  thou  luffes  M.  T.  ix,  70,  45  (E. 
84,  208) ;  That  holdis  ofM.  Y.  xix,  155,  277; 
M.'s  lawys  C.  xxix,  290,  20;  291,  11;  D. 
(M.M.)  130,  1987;  Leccyo  mahowndys  D. 
(M.M.)  100,  1186.  M.  and  me,  etc.  T. 
xiv,  120  5  (E.  141,  15);  121,  11  (E.  142, 
47-8);  Y.  xix,  147,  19;  M.  that  is  curtes 
and  heynd  T.  ix,  71,  30  (E.  85,  238).  Myght 
of  M.  T.  xxiv,  239,  29  (E.  287,  270) ;  M.  of 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  335 

mytesmost  D.  (M.M.)  101,  1210.  M.  most 
myghty  in  castels  and  towres  T.  xxiv,  243, 
35  (E.  292,  410) ;  kyng  by  grace  of  M.  T. 
xvi,  140,  10  (E.  166,  10).  By  M.  in  heven 
T.  xvi,  143,  5  (E.  129,  167);  trew  kyng  M. 
D.  (M.M.)  60,  143;  M.  OureGod  T.  xiv, 
121,  120  (E.  142.  58);  M.  that  weldys  water 
and  wynde  T.  xiv,  121,  34  (E.  142,  71); 
M.  is  god  werraye  Y.  xix,  147,  35 ;  God  alle 
weldand  T.  ix,  71,  18  (E.  85,  226);  my  God 
and  most  of  myght  M.,  Y.  xvn,  129,  101; 
pat  is  so  mykyll  of  myth  D.  (M.M.)  98, 
1140;  my  mayster,  mightye  M.  Ch.  xvm, 
82,  14.  Othere  God  ye  worship  none,  Bot 
M.  T.  xiv,  122,  1  (E.  143,  82).  Saint  M. 
T.  xiv,  120,  27  (E.  141,  27);  C.  xxxv,  343, 
7;  D.  (Herod)  14,  335;  D.  (M.M.)  101, 
1205;  M.  my  sovereyn  Savyour  C.  xxix, 
291,  11.  Reysemelyng  M.  STCo.  18,  516; 
his  cosyn  M.  T.  xvi,  141,  20  (E.  167,  54); 
the  graunser  of.  M.  T.  xx,  172,  12  (E.  204, 
12).  M.  whelpe  C.  xxxv,  343,  13.  Were 
he  M.  Y.  xxxi,  302,  291.  Mahown's  for 
evermore  T.  xxn,  204,  7  (E.  244,  39  has 
mahowns  pi.  =  gods).  Be  Machomete  NC. 
(Crox.)  61,  129;  by  Machomyth  69,  373; 
Machomyght  be  with  you  65,  252 ;  almyghty 
Machomet.  .  .  bryng  me  to  thy  hyhe  see 
59,  69. 
Mahometes  (=idols)  Ch.  x,  181,  11;  Maw- 
mentes  ID.  (Herod)  10,  243. 


336  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

*Mak  (the  sheep-thief)     T.  xm. 

*Malchus  (presumably  not  the  captor  of  Jesus) 
N  C.  (Crox.)  61,  137  ff.;  Malcus  70,  411; 
Malchas  76,  593  ff.  and  list  p.  87. 

Malkyn  Mylkedoke  C.  xiv,  131,  10. 

Malle  (an  ox)     T.  n,  9,  5  (E.  10,  41). 

Malmsine,  a  pottill  full  of  (Malmsey)  Ch.  in, 
53,  17;  Malmeseyn  (wynne  of)  D.  (M.M.) 
72,  476. 

Mantua  T.  xvi,  141,  13  (E.  167,  47). 

*Marcylle,  Kyng  of  (Marseilles)  D.  (M.  M.) 
90  heading;  mercyll  98  heading;  marcyll 
the  land  106,  1371;  107,  1379,  1441;  mer- 
cyll 123,  1823;  mercylle  127,  1917.  - 

*Maria  Jacobi  C.  xxxvi  (Jacoby  356,  29); 
Ch.  xvi,  62;  xix,  95.  Jacobye  D.  (B.  of  C.) 
192,  612;  Iacobee  D.  (C.R.  204,  970; 
Jacobe  D.  (M.M.)  92  ft.;  Jacob  97;  Jacobi 
T.  xxvi,  262,  346  ff.  (E.  316,  346  ff.).  I.e., 
Mary,  mother  of  James  and  Joseph  or 
Philip  and  according  to  Ps.-M.  wife  of 
Alpheus  and  daughter  of  Anna  and  her 
second  husband,  Cleophas.  (Ps.-M.  xlii, 
Alex.  Walker's  trans,  p.  51  note.)  Thus,  as 
in  this  play,  the  aunt  of  Jesus. 

*Maria  Salome  C.  xxxvi  (Solomce  355  ital., 
Salome,  355,  1);  Salome  Ch.  xvn,  62;  xix; 
D.  (M.M.)93ff;  Solomee  T.  xxvi,  262, 
352  (E.  316,  352);  Salomee  ib.  1.  370. 
Another  daughter  of  Anna  by  Salome,  her 
third  husband.  Ref.  as  above.  Cf.  Mark 
xv,  40;  xvi,  1. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  337 

Marie,  Saynte  (a  church  in  Rome)  Ch.  vi, 
117,  24. 

Mars  Y.  xxvi,  198,  163;  Marse  Ch.  v.  81,  23; 
Martis  Y.  xvi,  123,  2.  (Only  Mars'  hill 
Acts  xvn,  22  in  Bible.)  Maris  (planet) 
D.  (M.M.)  66,  317. 

maryon  (a  woman's  name)  D.  (M.M.)  99, 
1161. 

*Masphat  NC.  (Crox.)  61,  133  ff.;  Masfat  60, 
111;  Masfatt 67,  306. 

Mathaeus    See  Richardson. 

Maude,  merye  Ch.  vn,  134,  17.  *Mawd  (Sec- 
unda  mulier)  T.  xvi,  148,  35  (E.  176,  352). 

*Maunfras  (Secundus  pastor)  C.  xvi,  156,  15. 

Mawdycke,  Thomas.  Name  before  songs 
STCo.  31,  WCo.  70. 

mawt,  wynne  of  (" Malta?")  D.  (M.M.  )  72, 
476. 

*Meditacion  (one  of  Mary's  maidens  in  the 
temple)  C.  ix,  86, 11.  The  Prot.  of  J.,  and 
Nat.  of  M.,  do  not  name  the  virgins  and 
differ  in  number.  Ps.-  M.  gives  five :  Re- 
becca, Sephora,  Susanna,  Abigea,  Cael. 
Chap.  viii. 

Meg  Merywedyr  C.  xiv,  132,  4. 

Melan  (Milan)    NC.  (Crox.)  58,  29. 

*Melchizar  (the  second  mage)  C.  xvn,  162, 
13.     Cf.  Coleyn. 

*Melchor  (the  second  mage)  T.  xiv,  122,  41 
(E.  144,  122);  (third  mage)  STCo.  25, 
727.    Cf.  Coleyn. 


338  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

*mercury(e  (a  messenger)  D.  (St.  P.)  44  ff.; 

Marcurye  44  heading;  Marcurye  44,  435. 

Mercuryus  (planet)    D.    (M.M.)  66,  318. 

Also  appears  as  the  name  of  the  god,  but 

not  so  cited  because   Biblical  in  this  use, 

Acts  xiv,   12. 
*Mercy    See  Misericordia. 
Merywedyr    See  Megge. 
Miles  the  Myllere  C.  xiv,  131,  123. 
*Misericordia    (one    of    the   four   daughters 

of  God)   C.  xi.     Mercy  107,  21,  etc. 
*Myserye  NC.  (Nor.  B.)  17,  115;  Mysery  17, 

136, 148;  Miserie  17, 124. 

Morelle  (ox  or  horse)  "Moreau  or  morel, 
equus  niger. ' '  Stev.  Morrell,  My  master 
grett  D.  (M.M.)  99,  1155. 

♦Mors    C.   xix.    Dethe  184,  30;  Deth  185,  1. 

Mounte    See  victoriall. 

Mowlle  that  went  by  the  way  (="Moll, 
Mary"  Gloss.)  T.  xn,  88,  1  (E.  105,  153). 

*mundus  (one  of  the  seven  sins)  D.  (M.M.)  66 
heading,  ff.  World,  King  of  the  66  heading, 
also  word. 

MYLES       SeeBLOMEFYLDE. 

Mylkedoke     See  malkyn. 

Myllere     See  miles. 

Naples  NC.  (Crox.)  58,  30. 

Naverne  (  =  Navarre)  C.  xxn,  210,  11;  Navern 

NC.  (Crox.)  58,  30. 
Nedy    See  Nicholle. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  339 

Nelle  (any  fast  and  over-dressed  woman)    T. 

xxx,  313,  29  (E.  377,  323). 
Neptalim    (called   to   witness   against  Jesus) 

Y.  xxxiii,  324,  115.    Nep(h)talim  in  Nic. 

I,i.    The  name  itself  is  Biblical.     Cf.  Gen. 

xxx,  8;  Rev.  vn,  6,  etc. 
Nycholas,   Sant    T.   xm,    101,    10    (E.    120, 

118). 
Nicholle  Nedy  (Uxor  to  Noah)    T.  in,  30,  32 

(E.  35,  405). 
Normandy    T.  xvi,  141,  15  (E.  167,  49);  Nor- 

mandye  C.  xxn,  210,  19. 
Norwa(  =  Norway)  T.xvi,  141, 15  (E.  167,  49). 
Octavyan    (emperor   C.   Octavius    Augustus) 

C.  xv,  145,  3;  Octavion  Ch.  Prol.   4,  14; 

*Octavyan,    Octavian,    Ch.    vi;    Augustus, 

Caesar  Augustus  in  Bible  and  Apocrypha; 

Alexander.     There  is  an  O.  French  "Mys- 

tere    de    Octavien    et   Sibille   tiburtine." 

See  Ch.  vi.     Note. 
oreient  (Orient)    WCo.  33,  3;  Orent  STCo.  18, 

502. 
Oryon,  pe  dukedom  of  (Oregon,  Gloss.)    NC. 

(Crox.)  58,  35. 
Padwa  ( =  Padua)   T.  xvi,  141, 12  (E.  167,  46). 
Palmar,  mayor  (in  1534,  when  STCo.  was  cor- 
rected and  WCo.  newly  translated)    STCo. 

31  after  900;  WCo.  70,  after  192. 
Panymes  (=Paynims)    Ch.  xxn,  142,  35. 
Parfre,    Ihon,    ded    wryte    thys  booke     D. 

(Herod)  24. 


340  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Parts  ( =  Paris)  C.  xxn,  210,  23. 

Parkyn  (one  of  the  "god-parents"  of  Mak's 
child;  the  other  two  are  the  first  and  sec- 
ond shepherds;  is  this  the  family  name  of 
"Dan?")   T.  xm,  113,  27  (E.  134,  562). 

*Pax  (one  of  the  four  daughters  of  God)  C.  xi. 
Pes  109,  6,  etc. 

Peace,  Temple  of,  at  Rome.  "Cf.  The  His- 
tory of  Virgilius  in  Thorns 's  Early  Prose 
Romances,  ii,  19."  Note.  Ch.  vi,  114, 
23. 

Peyrs  Potter  C.  xiv,  131,  114.  Note:  Pers 
Potter  also  in  list  of  names  in  Cocke  Lorelles 
Bote. 

Pen,  good  (spoken  to  Garcio)  T.  xn,  88,  37 
(E.  106,  188). 

Percula  (wife  of  Pilate)  Y.  xxx,  272,  37. 
Procla  in  Nic.  I,  n,  in  one  ms. 

Pernel  Prane    C.  xiv,  131,  119. 

Pernell,  Dame  (Primuz  mulier)    Ch.  x,  183,  5. 

Pes    See   Pax. 

Peter  Powle  (clerk  to  Aristorius)  NC.  (Crox.) 
59,  57fi.;Petre  Powle  62,  157;  63,  178. 

Petyr  (Seynt  Petyrs  temple)  NC.  (Crox.) 
58,  27. 

Pewdreas,  Sir  (applied  by  Cayphas  to  Jesus) 
Ch.  xvn,  57,  11.  Ms.  Harl.  21 24  Poydrace. 
Note. 

Pewterere     See  Powle. 

Phebus  (=  God)    Y.  xlix,  514,  1. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  341 

Phelypp  the  good  Flecchere    C.  xiv,  131 ,  120. 

Phyllyp  Fletcher  also  in  a  list  of  names  in 

Cocke  Lovelies  Bote.    Note. 
*Pike-harnes  (Cain's  boy)    T.  it,  9,  1  (E.  10, 

37);  17,  2  (E.  20,  382);  Pyke-harnes  17,  4 

(E.  20,  384). 
Pila  (Pilate's  mother)     T.  xxiv,  233,   19  (E. 

279,  19);  Y.  xxx,  271,  13,    14,    15.     See 

Athus. 
Pondere  (a  country)     NC.  (Crox.)  58,  31. 
Poperynge  (a  country)     C.  xxn,  210, 24. 
Portyngale  (Portugal)    C.  xxn,  210,  23;  NC. 

(Crox.)  58,  31. 
Potter     See  Peyrs. 
Powle  Pewterere    C.  xiv,  131,  119. 
Powle     See  Peter. 

Pownieys  (Pontoise)     C.  xxn,  210,  24. 
Poydrace    See  Pewdreas. 
Prane    See  Pernel. 
Pratte    See  Prittie. 
*pryde  (one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins)  D.  (M.  M. 

66  heading  ff.  "callyd  corioste"  (=  'nice- 

ness'?)  75,  550. 
*Prittie  Pratte  (Preco,  Herod's  messinger") 

Ch.  x,  173,  20. 
*Prologtje  Y.  xti,  93-8. 
Purgotorye    Ch.  xxv,  180,  25;  183,  25;  Pur- 

gatorye  181,  9;  192,  2;  Purgotarye  181,  18; 

183,  20. 
Pynkard,    Randall    (evidently   one    of    the 

masters  of  "taylars  and  sharmen")    STCo. 

31,  after  900. 


342  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

Pyxley,  Herre  (a  master  of  the  "Weywars") 

WCo.  70,  after  1192. 
Quarelle  hede,  Bery  me  in  Gudeboure  at  the 

T.  ii,  16,29  (E.  19,367). 
R.  C.  (signature  at  end  of  Croxton  play)     NC. 

87. 
Racali    See  a  Racali. 
Ragnell  (a  demon)    Ch.  xxiv,  174,  6;  D.  (M. 

M.)   101,   1200. 
Ram-skyt  (Noah  to  his  wife)    T.  in,  25,  35  (E. 

29,  217). 
Raynell    Ch.  v,  84,  18.     =  Ragnell? 
Randull     See  Pynkard. 
Raphaell  (angel)    D.  (M.  M.)  106,  1368. 
Raynes  ("Rheims")    NC.  (Crox.)  58,  27. 
Rebecca  (one  of  three  maidens  sent  to  live 

with  Mary)     C.  x,  101.     One  of  five  in 

Ps.-  M.  vm. 
Rede    See  Robyne. 
Reyse-sclaundyr  (Primus  detractor)    C.  xiv, 

133,  9. 
Rewfyn    See  Rufyn. 
*Rybald  (fiend)     T.  xxv. 
Rychard,  name  after  the  first  song  in  WCo.  70. 
Rychard    See  Smythe. 
Richardson,    Mathaeus,    praetor    (=  mayor) 

STCo.  31,  before  songs.     Note:  S.  has  Ma- 

thaens. 
Ryght,  Ryghtwysnes    See  Justicia. 
Robart    See  Croo. 
Robyn  Rede    C.  xiv,  131,  124. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  343 

ROFFYN      See  RUFFYN. 

Rome  (i.e.,  appar.  Christian  Rome)  Ch.  vi, 
117,  14;  possibly  xxiv,  159,  5;  T.  xxx, 
308,  18  (E.  371,  127);  NC.  (Crox.)  56,  57; 
58,  27. 

Romney  wine    NC.  (Crox.)  65,  260,  265. 

Rondall,  Done,  'monke  of  Chester  Abbey," 
to  whose  authorship  these  "  banes"  of  1600 
ascribe  the  Chester  mysteries.  Ch.  Prol. 
1,  7.  He  is  called  Randall  Higgenett  in  a 
proclamation  of  the  16th  cent.     Cf.  Introd. 

XVII,  XVIII. 

Ruben  (father  of  Judas)    T.  xxxn,  328,  7  (E. 

394,  7). 
Rtjffyn(e  (demon)    *Ch.  i,  17,  19;  v,  84,  18; 

roffyn  D.  (M.  M.)  101,  1200.    Appar.  same 

name  as  next. 
*Rufyne  (one  of  two  "  temporal  jewgys")    C. 

xxviii  ;  Rewfyn  in  C.  xxv,  xxvu. 
Ruskyne    See  Harry. 
Rybald     See  Ribald. 
Saba  (the  land  of  one  of  the  magi)    Ch.  vm, 

159  ital.;  (cf.  first  Balta^are)  C.  xvn,  162, 

1;  (of  third  Balthesar)  T.  xiv,  123,  33  (E. 

145,    158);    128,    15    (E.    151,   363).     See 

Coleyn. 
Sabyn  Sprynge    C.  xiv,  132,  4. 
Sadelere     See  Sawdyr. 
Salern  (Salerno)    NC.  (Crox.)  57,  16. 
Salmana    C.  xxii,  210,  13. 
Salome    See  Maria. 


344  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

*Salome(e  (the  doubting  midwife)    C.  xv;  Ch. 

vi.     Cf.  Ps.-M.  xni,  Prot.  of  J.  xix,  xx. 
Sara^yn,  a  (Saracen)    C.  xxxv,  245  ital. ;  sar- 

asenorum  D.  (M.M.)  100,  1186. 
Sarceny    T.  xvi,  141,  14  (E.  167,  48). 
Saturne    Y.  xvi,  123,  5;  (planet)  D.  (M.M.) 

66,  321. 
Saturnia    See  Virgille. 
satyllye,^  lond  of  ("Satalye")    D.  (M.M.) 

109,  1438. 
Sawdyr  Sadelere   (=  soldier?)     C.  xiv,   131, 

112. 
Sclutte    See  Sybile. 
Scotes,  Kinge  of    Ch.  x.  In  H.  2124  passage 

inserted  at  179,  14.     Note. 

SCOTTLONDE      C.  XXII,  210,  25. 

*sensuality  (the  World's  messenger)  D.  (M. 

M.)  69;  Sensvalyte  69,  394. 
Sephor  (one  of  three  maidens  sent  to  live  with 

Mary)    C.  x,  101,  10.     One  of  five  in  Ps.- 

M.  vni.    Sephore  101,  4. 
♦Serybyl    D.  (M.  M.)  55ff. ;  Serybb  56  heading; 

Syrybbe  56,  33. 
Shelysdown     NC.  (Crox.)  59,  60  and  58. 
Sibaria   (mother  of  Judas)    T.  xxxn,  328,  8 

(E.  394,  8). 
*Sibilla  propheta  T.   vn,   52-4    (E.    61-63); 

Sibille  sage  53,  6  (E.  61,  166);  Sybbell  Ch. 

vi ;  Syble  100,  11;  Sibell  105,  5;  Sibbilla  115 

heading;  Sibella  115   ital.;  Sibelle  115,  22; 

Sybell  116,  8.     Ref.  to  in  Ch.  Pro.  4,  15- 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  345 

T.  xii  93,  13  (E.  Ill,  350);  111  x  73,  15 
Sybylls  (E.87,  50Sybylle) ;  Sebbellam  (Ms.  b. 
"The  Sebellis")  WCo.  39, 197;  Sybyl  (Sybil) 
N.C.  (Crox.)  68,  351. 
Sible  Ch.  xii,  209,  24.  Spoken  by  second 
pharisee,  evid.  to  the  "rnulier  adultera." 
Cf.  SYBILE. 

Sybyly  Slynge    C.  xiv,  132,  3. 
Sydon,  This  pathe  is  cal     C.  xxvn,  260,  13. 
*Sym  (tertius  pastor)  STCo.  9,  218  and  222. 
Sym  Somnere  (Den [initiator])    C.  xiv,  135,  21. 
Symme  Smalfeyth    C.  xiv,  131,  115. 
Symovd  (  =  Simond?)  pe  gardener    D.  (M.  M.) 

96,  1079. 
Simon   (called    to    witness    against   Jesus)   Y« 

xxxiti,  323,  113.     Cf.  Nic.  I,  I.  Semes  or 

Summasl    Rather  Simon  the  leper  added 

to  apoc.  list.    Cf.  lucas. 

Sis  ("Sir,  nor.  .  .  .  Sis")    Ch.  vn,  334,  16. 
Slaw-pase  (third  shepherd  so  called  by  second) 

T.  xii.  87,  9  (E.  104, 125). 
Slynge    See  Sybyly. 
*slowth  (one  of  seven  deadly  sins)    D.  (M.  M.) 

6/ff. 
Smalfeyth    See  Symme. 
Smythe,  Rychard  (a  master  of  the  "weywars") 

WCo.  70,  after  1 192. 
Somnebe    See  Sym. 

Spayn    C.  xxii,  210,  11;  Spayne  NC.  (Crox.) 
58,  32. 


346  ANTOINETTE  GREENE 

*Spylle-payn  (Secundus  Tortor)    T.  xxiv,  236, 

3  (E.  283,   124);   Spille-payn    237,  4  (E. 

284,  169). 
Sprynge    See  Sabyn 
Spruce  ("Prussia")    NC.  (Crox.)  58,  32. 
Stafford  blew   T.  m,  25, 18  (E.  29,  200). 
Stevyn  Sturdy    C.  xiv,  131,  111. 
Stott  (an  ox)    T.  n,  9,  5  (E.  10,  41  "Cain's 

horse?"). 
Strevyn,    Sant     (=  Stephen?)    T.    xm,    108, 

21  (E.  128,  383). 
Sturdy    See  Stevyn. 
Style    See  Jack  at  the  Style. 
*Susanne  (one  of  three  maidens  sent  to  live 

with  Mary)    C.  x,  101,  2,  6.    Susanna  C. 

xn.    Susanna  one  of  five  in  Ps.-M.  viii. 
*Sybile  Sclutte  (a  woman  of  low  life,  consigned 

to  eternal  punishment)     C.  xlii,  404,  32. 

Corresponds  to   "mulier,"   tavern-keeper, 

in  Ch.  xvtii,  81f. 
Sybre,   Sir   (name  given   Jesus   in   scorn)  T. 

xxi,  194,  4  (E.  233,  149).     Cf.  E.  p.  409 

note.     Scarcely    =   Sybarite? 
Taryfe  ("Tarifa")    NC.  (Crox.)  58,  34. 
Tars  (the  land  of  the  first  mage,  Jaspar)  T. 

xiv,  123,  1  (E.  144,  124);  128,  15  (E.  151, 

363) ;  Tarys  (of  second,  Melchizar)  C.  xvn, 

162,  17;    Thrasis  (of  second,  Jasper)  Ch. 

ix,  171,  2;  Thrasis  Ch.  vm,  159,2;  Tharsis 

viii,  159ital.;  Tawrus  (of  first  mage)  STCo. 

25,  725;  26,  750.     See  Coleyn. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  347 

Tawrus    See  prec. 

*Tebell  (one  of  the  midwives)  Ch.  vi,  110,  etc. 

Temple    See  Peace. 

Tharsis    See  Tars. 

Thom  (the  name  used  by  the  first  to  the  sec- 
ond shepherd  in  the  same  sentence  with 
"  John  Home")     T.  xn,  86,  6  (E.  103,  85). 

Thom  Tynkere    C.  xrv,  131, 113. 

Thomas    See  Grauener,  Mawdycke. 

Thrasis    See  Tars. 

Tybbe  ("Tybbes  sonne"  =  Tercius  pastor, 
Tudde)  Ch.  vn.  121,  9,  13;  Tib  NC. 
(Sh.  Pas.)  1,  1. 

Tolkote  ("Toll-house"  by  Babwell  Myll) 
NC.  (Crox.)  74,  540.     Colkote  in  Manly. 

Trewth(e    See  Veritas. 

*Trinitas  T.  xx,  184  (E.  221,  529)  speaks  as 
one  person.  The  word  also  occurs  fre- 
quently in  the  following  forms:  Trenetie 
Ch.  v,  90,  21  etc.;  Trenitie  Ch.  i,  9,  6  etc.; 
Trenitye  Ch.  i,  8,  7  etc.;  Trenyte  C.  i,  19, 15: 
Trinite  Y.  xiv,  1  etc.;  Trinite  C.  xi,  110, 
27  etc.;  Trinyte  C.  vm,  74,  4  etc.;  Trynite 
C.  xii,  119,  7  etc.;  Trynyte  T.  xix,  170,  40 
(E.  202,  248) ;  Trynyte  C.  w,  42,  7. 

*Trowle  (the  shepherds'  boy)    Ch.  vn. 

Trust  Shalle  his  name  be  (i.e.  Christ's  name) 
T.  vii,  49,  31  (E.57,  27). 

♦Tudde  (Tercius  pastor)  Ch.  vn,  120,  28;  121, 
4,  5,  9  13;  122,  18. 


348  ANTOINETTE  GIIEENE 

Turky    T.   xvi,  141,  8  (E.  167,  42);  Turkey 

NC.  (Crox.)  58,  34. 
Tuskane  ( =  Tuscany)    T.  xvi,  141,  8  (E.  167, 

42). 
*Tutivillus    T.  XXX. 
Twynkelere    See  Tyffany. 
Tyffany  Twynkelere    C.  xiv,  132,  5. 
Tynkere    See  Thom. 

vdins,  Sir  (Secundus  dux)  Y.  xxxi,  301,  257. 
*unceylle  ( =  unhappiness,  but  used  as  if  it 

were  the  name  of  Primus  mulier)    T.  xvi, 

148,  10  (E.  176,  327). 
Venus,  his  voice!    Y.  xvi,  122,  10;  (planet)  D. 

(M.M.)  66,  319. 
*Veritas  (one  of  the  four  daughters  of  God) 

C.  xi.     Trowthe  110,  9;   Trewth  109,  27; 

Trewthe  107,  3;  109,  2,  26;  Threwth,  107,  27. 
Vernage  (Vernage)    D.  (M.  M.)  72,  479, 
*Veronica  (the  woman  who  wiped  the  face  of 

Jesus    as    he    went    toward    Calvary)  C. 

xxxn.     Veronyca,  318,  15.     Cf.  Death  of 

P.  and  Av.  of  Saviour. 
Vertutes  See  Virtutes. 
victoriall,  the  mounte  (where  the  kings  go 

to  pray)    Cf .  Legend  of  the  Three  Kings  of 

Cologne,  p.  267,  "hilleof  victorie"  =  Vaus, 

Vaws.     See  Wawse. 
Virgille    (made  a  prophet  of   Christ)  "Jam 

nova  progenies  caelo  demittitur  alto,  Jam 

r  diet  virgo,  redeunt  Saturnia  regna."     T. 


NAMES  IN  MYSTERY  PLAYS  349 

xu,  94,  9  (E.  112,  386).    Vyrgylle  T.  xvi, 

144,41  (E.  172,202). 
Virragoo.    Adam  says  Eve  shall  be  so  called, 

"  For  out  of  man  tackensheis."     Ch.  n,  25, 

10;  virago  NC.  (Nor.  A.)  8,  20;  cf.  woman 

(Nor.  B.)  13,  26. 
*Vertutes  (one  of  the  nine  orders  of  angels) 

Ch.  i.     The  three  hierarchies  or  nine  orders 

are  set  forth  by  Dionysius  Pseudo-Areopag- 

itica  in  his  " Celestial  Hierarchy."     *Vir- 

tutes  C.  xi,  106. 
Visyon,  the  land  of    T.  iv,  36,  23  (E.  42,  68); 

Vissyon  Y.  x,  58,  71 ;  Vysionne  59,  86  =  Pis- 

gah?;.7[i]s2/onN.C.  (Brome)  38,  23,  "land 

of  Moriah"  in  Gen. 
Wakefeld  T  Title. 
Walys,  the  londe  of    C.  xxn,  210,  25. 
Waller    See  Gybon. 
Waradrake    See  Grymbalde. 
Wat  Wynk  (Uxor  to  Noah)    T.  in,  30,  10  (E. 

34,  382);  wattes  pakke  D.  (M.M.)  99,  1154. 
*Watkyn  ("messanger")     D.  (Herod)  4ff. 
Watlyn  Strete    T.  xxx,  308, 18  (E.  371, 126). 
Wawse,  hyll  of    WCo.  33,   7;  37,   115.     Cf. 

note  under  victoriall. 
Whatt  at  the  Welle    C.  xiv,  131,  114. 
Whiiehead,  Johanes  ("consul")     STCo.  31, 

before  songs. 
White-horne    T.  ii,  9,  6  (E.  10,  42). 
Whole    Churche,    the    head    of    (=    Holy 

Church)     STCo.  20,  581. 


350 


ANTOINETTE  GREENE 


Wymond  (Tercius  miles)   Y.  xxxiv,   338,  46; 

339,  57,  59,  60. 
Wynke    See  Wat. 
World    See  mundus. 
*\vrath  (one  of  seven  deadly  sins)  D.  (M.M.) 

68  ff. 
wyan,  wyn  of  (Guyenne)    D.  (M.M.)  72,  479. 
^fbee      C.  xxii,  210,  13.   =Sebat  Ps.  lxxii, 

10,  Is.  lxiii,  3,  etc. 
j?elomy(e  (one  of  the  mid  wives  at  the  birth 

of  Christ)     C.  xv  =  Zelomi,  Ps.-M.  xm. 

Cf.  Salome  (e. 


ALFRED  THE  GREAT  IN  POPULAR 
TRADITION 

BY  GEORGE  H.  McKNIGHT,    PH.D. 

In  the  medium  through  which  we  see  the  great 
men  of  the  past,  are  many  reflecting  and  refract- 
ing influences.  One  clearly  marked  effect  of 
these  influences  is  the  magnified  conception  of 
the  great  men,  of  their  personality  and  exploits; 
salient  features  become  more  salient;  the  hero 
more  heroic,  the  villain  more  villainous.  Thus 
in  medieval  England  grew  the  romantic  con- 
ception of  Richard  the  Lion-Hearted,  the  hero 
of  minstrel  story;  in  Scotland  grew  the  myth  of 
the  Black  Douglas,  the  children's  bugbear;  in 
France  developed  the  legendary  Joan  of  Arc; 
in  our  own  time  and  country  has  grown  the 
exaggerated  notion  of  Lincoln  the  spring  of 
anecdote.  "In  thirty  or  forty  years,"  says 
Carlyle,  "were  there  no  books,  any  great  man 
would  grow  mythical,  the  contemporaries  who 
had  once  seen  him  being  all  dead."  Tradition 
makes  the  great  man  first  a  hero,  then  a  god; 
as  Greek  tradition  magnified  Theseus  into  a 
demi-god,  so  Teutonic  tradition  magnified  Char- 
lemagne and  Theodoric  into  heroes  of  popular 
story. 


352  GEORGE  H.  McKNIGHT 

This  influence  of  time  in  developing  tradi- 
tional conceptions  quite  distinct  from  the  real 
characters  is  manifest  in  the  legends  surrounding 
Alfred  the  Great.  Perhaps  Alfred's  efforts  in 
encouraging  authentic  historical  record,  by  the 
light  which  they  shed  over  his  times,  have  tended 
to  dispel  any  shadowy,  mythical  form  of  himself 
which  might  have  come  into  being  in  a  time 
lighted  only  by  the  ray  of  tradition.  At  any 
rate  the  growth  of  legendary  elements  has  not 
been  so  notable  as  in  some  other  instances.  Still 
a  great  many  stories  have  been  attached  to  his 
famous  name;  Alfred  the  popular  hero  gets 
credit  due,  in  part  at  least,  to  his  able  but  less 
celebrated  successors.  He  did  not  indeed,  like 
Charlemagne  andArthur,  become  the  center  of  a 
cycle  of  stories;  yet  besides  the  authentic  Alfred, 
the  defender  of  England  against  the  Danes,  the 
lawgiver,  the  promoter  of  learning,  there  did 
exist  the  popular  hero  of  story  and  church 
legend,  the  "  England's  Darling"  of  the  later 
Middle  Ages. 

The  relation  between  this  traditional  Alfred 
and  the  historical  Alfred  is  interesting.  Seen 
through  tradition,  Alfred  appears  in  heroic  di- 
mensions. Yet,  though  the  outlines  are  magni- 
fied, the  real  proportion  is  well  preserved  in  the 
traditional  conception.  It  is  real  qualities  that 
are  magnified  to  form  the  traditional  conception; 
and  if  we  apply  the  proper  corrections,  from  the 
traditional  hero  we  may  form  a  clearer  concep- 
tion of  the  real  man. 


ALFRED  THE  GREAT  353 

One  special  feature  of  the  origin  of  Alfred- 
ian  legend  we  must  note  in  passing.  Traditional 
accounts  from  earlier  times  passed  down  either 
in  secular  story  or  in  church  legend.  Of  the 
secular  stories  of  early  England  we  have  only 
a  scattering  few;  of  contemporary  songs  con- 
cerning Alfred  we  have  none.  Those  which 
must  have  existed  we  know  only  through  the  de- 
tails undoubtedly  contributed  by  them  to  later 
chroniclers.  Of  church  legends,  however,  we 
have  many.  Alfred's  manifold  services  to  the 
church  won  for  him  the  gratitude  of  the  clericals 
who  lived  and  flourished  under  the  institutions 
which  he  founded.  Hence  he  was  celebrated 
in  clerical  tales.  Older  stories  of  secular  tra- 
dition were  colored;  and  new  stories  were  circu- 
lated to  exalt  the  wisdom,  the  goodness,  and 
particularly  the  piety,  of  Alfred.  Even  the 
calamities  of  his  reign  were  represented  as  due 
to  divine  punishment  for  misdeeds  against  which 
he  had  been  vainly  admonished.  For  this 
priestly  origin,  then,  we  must  make  some  allow- 
ance in  considering  the  extant  tales  concerning 
Alfred. 

What,  then,  was  the  traditional  conception 
of  Alfred?  The  most  conspicuous  achievement 
of  Alfred's  career  was  doubtless  his  defense  of 
Wessex  against  the  Danes.  History  records 
few  more  dramatic  struggles  than  that  of  Alfred 
rallying  his  reduced  forces  and  finally  expelling 
the  invaders.     Such  events  one  would  expect  to 


354  GEORGE  H.  McKNIGHT 

find  the  subject  of  patriotic  song.  Yet  no  such 
songs  have  been  preserved ;  we  have  concerning 
Alfred  no  song  like  that  which  celebrates  the 
glory  of  his  grandson  Athelstan  at  Brunnanburh, 
or  the  fortitude  of  Brihtnoth  at  Maldon.  In 
later  chronicles  almost  the  only  story  which 
commemorates  Alfred's  bravery  and  which  we 
feel  sure  must  have  been  derived  from  popular 
song  deals  with  Alfred's  courage  and  resource- 
fulness in  entering  the  Danish  camp  disguised 
as  a  minstrel  and  gaining  the  information  neces- 
sary to  him  as  commander.  Even  this  story 
is  suppressed  by  many  priestly  chroniclers,  who 
prefer  to  regard  Alfred's  success  as  a  divine 
reward  for  religious  devotion.  Thus  the  Alfred 
of  tradition  was  not  a  military  hero.  Hereward, 
rather,  "the  last  of  the  Saxons,"  who  attracted 
to  himself  tale  after  tale  of  martial  achievement, 
was  the  Anglo-Saxon  hero  of  adventure. 

Tradition  loved  far  more  to  dwell  on  humbler 
virtues,  the  King  in  the  herdsman's  hut  with  the 
burnt  loaves,  the  youth  winning  the  illuminated 
manuscript  by  committing  its  poetry  to  memory 
— stories  too  well  known  to  bear  repetition.  The 
same  qualities  are  manifest  elsewhere.  A  fav- 
orite story  illustrating  Alfred's  generosity  is 
told  by  several  later  chroniclers  and  evidently 
owes  its  origin  to  church  tradition. 

"  Alfred  in  his  retirement  in  the  wilds  of  Som- 
erset, had  been  joined  by  his  wife  and  family. 
His  friends  were  abroad  in  search  of  food;  only 


ALFRED  THE  GREAT  355 

his  queen  and  one  thegn  were  with  him.  It  was 
his  custom,  when  alone  here,  to  read  the  books 
of  Scripture,  hymns,  or  the  annals  of  the  coun- 
try and  the  actions  of  illustrious  men.  As  he  was 
sitting  by  himself  reading  one  of  these,  he  was 
interrupted  by  a  feeble  knock  at  his  gate,  and 
by  the  low  cry  of  poverty  supplicating  relief. 
He  remembered  the  state  of  penury  in  which 
he  had  reached  the  same  spot;  he  laid  down  his 
book  and  called  his  thegn  to  give  the  poor  claim- 
ant some  food.  The  thegn  found  only  one  loaf 
in  their  store,  which  would  not  suffice  for  the 
family  on  their  return  from  their  toilsome  ex- 
pedition, and  a  little  wine.  Alfred  thought  the 
necessities  of  the  mendicant  more  urgent  than 
their  own,  and  reserving  a  part  of  the  pittance 
for  his  friends,  he  presented  the  beggar  with  the 
rest." 

The  story  is  further  embellished  by  Ingulph 
as  follows : 

"  Alfred  dismissed  the  man.  Whether  from 
weariness,  from  anxiety,  or  from  being  long 
intent  on  reading,  he  fell  asleep  for  a  short 
while.  In  a  vision  he  saw  the  apparition  of  St. 
Cuthbert,  as  though  sent  by  God,  who  said, 
'  Pious  king  Alfred,  the  Lord  has  been  moved 
with  compassion  at  the  miseries  of  the  English, 
who  have  long  and  bitterly  lamented  their 
sins.  Even  this  day,  under  the  form  of  a  poor 
man,  hath  He  made  trial  of  thy  long  sufferings ; 
and  having  most  graciously  received  of  thy 


356  GEORGE  H.  McKNIGHT 

generosity  when  so  greatly  in  want  of  bread,  He 
hath  through  me  made  promise  unto  thee,  that 
thou,  who  now  art  a  wretched  exile,  shalt  before 
long  be  the  conqueror  of  thine  enemies,  and  shalt 
rejoice  on  the  throne  of  thy  kingdom,  and  this 
shall  be  the  sign  unto  thee,  that  although  the 
winter's  ice  just  now  throws  the  greatest  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  the  fisherman's  art,  still, 
thy  retainers,  sent  forth  to  fish  in  the  marsh, 
shall  satisfy  all  their  desires,  and  shall,  by  the 
divine  guidance,  about  the  third  hour  of  the 
day,  bring  into  the  palace  a  wonderful  supply  of 
fish.'  So  saying,  the  saint  disappeared;  where- 
upon the  king  awoke,  and  relating  his  vision  to 
his  mother,  upon  enquiry,  found  by  her  answers 
that  she  had  fallen  asleep  in  her  chair  at  the 
same  hour,  and  had  seen  the  same  vision,  the 
same  holy  bishop  making  his  appearance  to  her 
in  a  similar  manner.  While  they  were  convers- 
ing, the  fishermen  returned  from  the  marshes 
and  brought  in  a  quantity  of  fish,  so  vast  that 
it  was  thought  it  would  have  proved  sufficient 
for  a  large  army." 

The  origin  of  a  tale  such  as  this  is  evident. 
To  the  same  church  sources  we  owe  numerous 
other  tales  of  visions  seen,  and  divine  assistance 
received,  by  the  king  in  his  struggles.  "In  his 
early  manhood,  while  hunting  in  Cornwall,  he 
entered  the  village  church  where  St.  Gueryr,  a 
Cornish  man  of  religion,  was  buried.  Alfred 
prayed  for  relief  from  the  malady  with  which  he 


ALFRED  THE  GREAT  357 

was  afflicted.  He  solicited  any  change  of  divine 
ministrations  that  would  not  make  him  useless 
in  body  or  contemptible  in  appearance.  In  no 
long  space  afterward  his  constitution  experi- 
enced beneficial  alteration.  His  complaint 
ceased,  though  it  was  succeeded  by  another  and 
worse  one  later  in  life."  Another  story  tells 
how,  when  Alfred  was  reduced  to  the  utmost 
extremity,  St.  Neot  appeared  to  him  in  a  dream, 
promising  him  both  assistance  and  great  suc- 
cess. Some  of  the  monkish  chroniclers  who 
relate  these  tales  suppress  the  more  popular 
tale  of  Alfred's  entrance  of  the  Danish  camp  in 
disguise,  preferring  to  attribute  Alfred's  suc- 
cesses to  divine  interference  rather  than  to 
strenuous  effort. 

Even  more  fanciful  tales  sprang  from  the 
same  source.  "One  day  as  Alfred  was  hunting 
in  a  wood,  he  heard  the  cry  of  an  infant  in  a 
tree,  and  ordered  his  huntsman  to  examine  the 
place.  They  ascended  the  branches :  and  found 
at  the  top,  in  an  eagle's  nest,  a  beautiful  child, 
dressed  in  purple,  with  golden  bracelets,  the 
marks  of  nobility,  on  his  arms.  The  king  had 
him  brought  down  and  baptized,  and  well  edu- 
cated. From  the  accident  he  named  the  found- 
ling Nestingus.  It  is  added  that  the  great- 
granddaughter  of  this  foundling  was  one  of  the 
ladies  of  whom  King  Edgar  was  passionately 
enamoured." 

The  monkish  authorities  at  times  embellish 


358  GEORGE  H.  McKNIGHT 

the  popular  tales  with  additions.  For  instance' 
Matthew  of  Westminster,  in  telling  the  well 
known  story  of  Alfred's  experience  in  the  herds- 
man's hut,  gives  additional  particulars.  The 
peasant's  name  was  Denulf.  Alfred  observed 
him  to  be  a  man  of  capacity.  He  recommended 
the  peasant  to  apply  himself  to  letters,  and  to 
assume  the  ecclesiastical  profession.  After- 
wards he  made  the  man  Bishop  of  Winchester. 
Other  medieval  accounts  emphasize  Alfred's 
work  in  establishing  justice  throughout  Eng- 
land. To  Alfred  were  attributed  achievements 
which  in  many  instances,  no  doubt,  belong 
rightfully  to  some  one  of  his  able  successors. 
He  is  said  to  have  divided  England  into  counties 
and  shires,  and  these  into  hundreds  and  tenths, 
to  have  established  a  new  judiciary,  with  new 
judges,  justiciaries,  and  shire  reeves.  Ingulph 
says:  "Peace  flourished  throughout  the  land 
to  such  a  degree,  that  if  a  traveler  in  the  evening 
left  any  sum  of  money,  however  large,  in  the 
fields  and  the  public  highways,  whether  he  re- 
turned next  morning,  or  whether  a  month  after, 
he  was  sure  to  find  it  safe  and  untouched." 
And  Matthew  of  Westminster,  to  the  same  effect, 
says:  "He  diffused  peace  over  the  provinces, 
so  that  even  at  the  public  fences,  where  roads 
are  divided  in  four  directions,  he  ordered  golden 
amulets  to  be  suspended,  so  as  to  excite  the 
cupidity  of  travelers,  since  there  was  no  man 
who  dared  to  take  them  away." 


ALFRED  THE  GREAT  359 

Another  legendary  phase  of  Alfred's  character 
is  emphasized  in  the  so-called  "  Proverbs  of 
Alfred."  This  poem,  once  very  popular  in 
England,  'professes  to  contain  the  wise  sayings 
delivered  by  Alfred  to  his  Witenagemot  at  Sea- 
ford."  It  was  composed  in  native  language 
and  rhythm  in  the  thirteenth  century,  a  time 
for  the  most  part  barren  in  native  literary 
productions,  and  extols  the  piety  and  wisdom 
of  the  king,  "Englene  hurde  ('England's  shep- 
herd'), Englene  durlyng." 

He  wes  king  and  he  wes  clerek, 

wel  he  luuede  godes  werk. 
He  wes  wis  on  his  word 

and  war  ('cautious')  on  his  werke. 
He  wes  J?e  wysuste  mon 

J?at  wes  Englelonde  on. 

Alfred  recommends  piety  with  these  words : 

Mildeliche  ich  munye  ('admonish'), 

myne  leoue  ('dear')  freond 
poure  and  riche, 

leode  ('people')  myne, 
Jjat  ye  alle  adrede  ('fear') 

vre  dryhten  ('our  lord')  Crist, 
luuyen  hine  and  lykyen, 

for  he  is  louerd  of  lyf . 
He  is  one  god 

ouer  alle  godnesse. 
He  is  one  gleaw  ('wise') 

ouer  alle  glednesse. 
He  is  one  blisse 

ouer  alle  blissen. 
He  is  one  monne 

mildest  mayster. 
He  is  one  folkes 

fader  and  frouer  ('comfort'). 


N 


360  GEORGE  H.  McKNIGHT 

Of  justice,  "thus  quoth  Alfred," 

Hwych  so  pe  mon  soweJ>, 

al  swuch  he  schal  mowe, 
and  everuyches  monnes  dom 

to  his  owere  dure  churrej>  ('turns'). 

Of  the   uncertainty   of    life,    "thus    quoth 
Alfred," 

For  nys  no  wrt  ('herb')  uexynde  ('growing') 

a  wude  ne  a  velde, 
J>at  ever  mvwe  ('may')  J>as  feye  ('of  the  fated  man') 

iurp  ('the  life')  vpholde  ('save'). 
Not  ('knows  not')  no  mon  J>ene  tyme 

hwanne  he  schal  heonne  ('hence')  turne, 
ne  no  mon  J»ene  ende 

hwenne  he  schal  heonne  wende  ('go'). 

Of   endurance   and   suffering,    "thus   quoth 
Alfred," 

If  pu  hauest  seorewe, 

ne  seye  pu  hit  nougt  pan  areowe  ('caitiff') ; 
seye  hit  pine  sadelbowe, 

and  ryd  pe  singinde  for}?. 

Of  overmuch  talking,  "thus  quoth  Alfred," 

Forpi  ('therefore')  ich  holde  hine  for  dote  ('a  fool') 

pat  say})  al  his  wille 
panne  ('when')  he  scholde  beon  stille. 

For  ofte  tunge  brekep  bon, 

peyh  heo'seolf  nabbe  non  ('though  itself  have  none'). 

Of   the   training   of   children,    "thus   quoth 
Alfred," 

For  betere  is  child  vnbore 

pane  vnbuhsum  ('disobedient'): 

pe  mon  pe  spare  yeorde  ('rod') 
and  yonge  childe, 


ALFRED  THE  GREAT  361 

and  let  hit  arixlye  ('rule') 

J?at  he  hit  areche  ('control')  ne  may, 

J>at  him  schal  on  ealde  ('old  age') 
sorereowe  ('rue'). 

One  will  at  once  recognize  that  not  all  of  these 
sayings  were  original  with  Alfred.  The  inter- 
esting fact  is  that  they  were  attributed  to  him; 
thus  they  show  the  estimation  as  a  wise  man  in 
which  Alfred  was  held. 

These  stories  and  proverbs,  apocryphal 
though  they  are,  show  the  popular  medieval 
estimation,  the  traditional  conception,  of  Al- 
fred. The  general  nature  of  this  conception  is 
plain.  If  there  were  tales  celebrating  Alfred's 
exploits  in  war,  few  traces  of  them  are  pre- 
served. In  this  respect,  as  we  have  seen, 
Alfred  cannot  compare  with  Hereward,  the 
hero  of  the  Saxon  struggle  against  the  Normans. 
His  fame  is  of  a  different  kind.  As  a  boy, 
though  celebrated  for  his  skill  in  hunting,  he  is 
better  remembered  for  his  love  of  learning, 
earning  the  beautifully  illuminated  book  of 
poems.  And  of  the  Alfred  of  later  life,  the  qual- 
ities most  celebrated  are  the  humility  in  the 
herdsman's  hut,  the  kindness  to  the  beggar,  the 
religious  character  shown  in  his  dependence  on 
divine  assistance,  the  justice  in  establishing 
laws,  and  the  wisdom  in  uttering  proverbs. 

As  Carlyle  has  urged,  in  all  superstition,  all 
quackery,  if  we  go  far  enough  back,  there  is  a 
germ  of  truth.      In  the  same  way,  in  these  me- 


362  GEORGE  K.  McKNIGHT 

dieval  traditions  we  have  clues  which,  followed 
far  enough  back,  will  lead  us  to  the  fundamental 
facts  in  Alfred's  character.  In  the  traditional 
Alfred  are  reflected  the  features  of  the  real 
Alfred. 

Let  us  then  compare  the  real  King,  as  re- 
vealed by  history,  with  the  King  of  popular 
tradition. 

To  begin  with,  Alfred  was  a  great  warrior. 
Of  his  personal  valor  we  have  evidence  in  the 
account  of  the  Battle  of  Ashdown,  where,  com- 
manding the  van  of  the  English  forces,  without 
waiting  for  his  brother  King  Athelred,  who  re- 
fused to  march  until  mass  was  over,  Alfred 
time  and  again  charged  ''like  a  wild  boar"  up 
the  hill  covered  with  thick  brushwood,  and  after 
a  stubborn  struggle  won  a  victory.  Of  the 
general  success  of  his  campaigns  it  is  sufficient 
to  say  that  he,  the  last  bulwark  of  England, 
proved  strong  enough  finally  to  check  the 
invaders,  to  save  Wessex,  and  to  give  the  impetus 
to  the  reactionary  struggle  which  under  his 
successors  brought  the  rest  of  England  from 
under  Danish  sway. 

Yet  these  martial  virtues,  though  possibly 
most  conspicuous,  were  hardly  the  most  funda- 
mental of  his  character.  His  successes  against 
the  Danes  were  doubtless  due  as  much  to  his 
administrative  ability  and  his  soundness  of 
judgment  as  to  his  personal  valor.  His  reor- 
ganization of  the  English  army  and  his  construe- 


ALFRED  THE  GREAT  363 

tion  of  the  long  boats  with  which  to  oppose  the 
Danes  on  their  own  element  were,  in  the  final 
issue,  factors  more  important  than  his  courage. 

This  administrative  ability  Alfred  also  showed 
as  a  lawgiver.  In  compiling  his  code  he  was  no 
innovator;  he  did  not  venture  to  make  radical 
changes,  because,  as  he  says,  "  It  was  unknown 
to  me  how  much  of  this  would  please  those 
who  are  to  come  after  us."  He  took  accordingly 
the  best  from  the  old  codes,  striking  out  what 
no  longer  suited  conditions.  His  regulations, 
moreover,  in  some  respects  seem  to  us  absurd  in 
their  minuteness.  The  Mosaic  doctrine  of  "an 
eye  for  an  eye"  is  so  extended  that  each  part  of 
the  body  has  its  fixed  value.  The  loss  of  an 
eye  in  fight  costs  the  aggressor  sixty  shillings, 
six  and  a  third  pence;  of  a  thumb,  thirty  shillings; 
of  a  little  finger,  eight  shillings.  The  loss  of 
an  ox's  horn  must  be  paid  for  by  ten  pence,  of 
a  cow's  by  two;  of  a  cow's  tail,  on  the  other 
hand,  by  five  pence,  of  an  ox's  by  only  four. 

One  great  value  of  Alfred's  laws  lay  in  their 
uniformity.  As  the  basis  of  his  work,  he  used 
the  codes  compiled  by  earlier  kings,  Athelbert 
for  Kent,  Ine  for  Wessex,  and  Offa  for  Mercia; 
from  these  Alfred  formed  one  code  for  the  three 
kingdoms  combined  under  his  rule.  More  im- 
portant, however,  than  this  uniformity  was  the 
spirit  which  he  recommended  in  applying  his 
code:  "By  a  single  law  one  may  judge  every 
wrong.  One  needs  no  other  books  of  laws. 
Let  him  impose  upon  no  man  a  judgment  which 


364  GEORGE  H.  McKNIGHT 

he  would  be  unwilling  that  the  man  should  im- 
pose upon  him." 

Yet  notwithstanding  all  that  he  accomplished 
in  defending  his  country  and  in  reforming  its 
administration,  Alfred's  chief  title  to  fame  must 
rest  upon  something  else:  it  is  as  the  pro- 
moter of  learning  that  he  stands  preeminent 
among  sovereigns.  Among  English  kings  Ed- 
ward I,  Edward  III,  and  Henry  V  were  as  re- 
nowned in  war;  Henry  II  was  probably  a  greater 
lawgiver.  But  there  is  hardly  to  be  found,  cer- 
tainly not  in  the  English  royal  line,  a  ruler  so 
genuine  and  so  sincere  in  his  desire  to  further 
the  cause  of  learning. 

The  same  zeal  by  which  he  won  the  illumi- 
nated manuscript  in  his  boyhood  Alfred  showed 
later  as  king.  He  was  fond  of  entertaining 
strangers  and  of  getting  from  them  a  knowledge 
of  foreign  lands.  He  invited  to  reside  at  his 
court  learned  men  from  Mercia,  from  France, 
from  Saxony,  even  from  Wales.  Thus  sur- 
rounded by  men  of  learning  he  did  not  content 
himself,  as  some  other  monarchs  have  done, 
with  idle  speculation  and  the  selfish  cultivation 
of  his  own  mind .  James  I  might  have  done  that. 
But  Alfred's  aims  were  more  generous,  more 
noble.  For  the  instruction  of  his  people  and  the 
restoration  of  scholarship  in  England  he  set  him- 
self and  his  associates  the  task  of  compilation 
and  translation.  The  product  of  their  labors 
was  a  number  of  important  books  in  English 
on  church  government,  general  history,  ecclesi- 


ALFRED  THE  GREAT  365 

astical  history,  and  philosophy.  These  works, 
measured  by  modern  standards,  do  not  "bulk 
large;"  yet  they  form  a  body  of  vernacular 
writings  unique  for  their  time,  the  nucleus  about 
which  in  the  two  centuries  following  grew  a 
considerable  vernacular  literature. 

From  this  rapid  summary  it  will  be  seen  that 
there  is  striking  agreement  between  the   his- 
torical estimate    of  Alfred   and   the  medieval 
traditional  conception.     Both  history  and  tra- 
dition emphasize  the  same  qualities.     Alfred's 
heroic  defense  against  the  Danes,  conspicuous 
as  it  may  be,  is  not  his  greatest  achievement, 
whether  viewed  by  the  light  of  history  or  that 
of  tradition.     His  most  distinguished  services 
were  those  rendered  the  causes  of  justice  and  of 
education.     There  is  a  striking  comment  made 
by  Florence  of  Worcester,  a  Latin  chronicler 
of  the  eleventh  century,  who  says  that  Alfred's 
son  Edward  "was  inferior  to  his  father  in  learn- 
ing, but  surpassed  him  in  dignity,  might,  and 
grandeur."     With    the   judgment    of   Alfred's 
character  suggested   here,  we  have  seen  that 
historical  estimate  and  popular  tradition  agree. 
Alfred  the  Great  was  preeminently  Alfred  the 
just,    the   wise,    the    good.    Whoever    would 
understand  the  nobility  of  his  character,  will 
find  the  keynote  in  Alfred's  own  words :     ' '  This 
I  can  now  truly  say,  that  so  long  as  I  have  lived 
I  have  striven  to  live  worthily,  and  after  my 
death  to  leave  my  memory  to  my  descendants, 
in  good  works." 


THE  CELTIC  RITE  IN  BRITAIN 

BY  MARY  A.   MOLLOY,    PH.D. 

The  object  of  this  paper  is  to  present,  as  con- 
cisely as  possible,  the  main  points  in  which  the 
Celtic  Rite  in  Britain,  prior  to,  and  contem- 
porary with,  the  time  of  Saint  Augustine  of 
Canterbury,  differed  from  the  Roman  Rite, 
introduced  and  put  into  practice  by  Saint  Augus- 
tine and  his  followers,  at  the  time  of  his  coming 
into  England  in  597. 

The  term  "Celtic  Rite"  is  "rather  indefinitely 
applied,"  says  Jenner,iato  the  various  rites  in 
use  in  Great  Britain,  Ireland,  perhaps  in  Brit- 
tany, and  sporadically  in  northern  Spain,  and 
in  the  monasteries  which  resulted  from  the 
Irish  missions  of  Saint  Columbanus  in  France, 
Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Italy,  at  a  time 
when  rites  other  than  the  Roman  were  used 
wholly  or  partially  in  those  places." 

Did  the  limits  of  the  paper  permit,  it  would 
be  of  interest  to  trace  the  history  of  the  Celtic 
Rite  as  it  was  observed  in  France  and  Spain, 
and  later  on  in  Britain :  to  contrast  the  charac- 

1  The  Catholic  Encyclopedia,    vol.  iii,  p.  493. 


THE  CELTIC  RITE  367 

teristics  of  the  Celtic  Rite  with  those  of  the 
other  Rites,  several  of  which  are  in  use  to-day,  as 
the  Coptic  Rite,  the  Mozarabic  Rite,  the  Greek 
Rite,  and  so  forth.  However,  interesting  as  a 
complete  discussion  of  the  Celtic  Rite  might 
be,  it  is  quite  possible  that  it  would  fail  in  ap- 
positeness,  for  it  is  only  the  period  of  its 
history  when  the  Celtic  Rite  existed  in  Ed  gland 
side  by  side  with  the  Roman  Rite,  that  is  of 
particular  interest  from  the  point  of  view  of 
English  ecclesiastical  history,  or  English  eccle- 
siastical literature. 

/.     There  were  some  differences  in  the  liturgy  of 

the  Mass. 

In  the  twenty-seventh  chapter  of  the  first 
book  of  Bede's  Ecclesiastical  History  we  read 
the  question  of  Saint  Augustine  to  Pope 
Gregory  as  follows : 

Whereas  the  faith  is  one  and  the  same,  why  are 
there  different  customs  in  different  churches?  And 
why  is  one  custom  of  Masses  observed  in  the  holy 
Roman  church,  and  another  in  the  Gallican  church? 

The  term  " Gallican,"  in  the  text,  may  refer 
only  to  the  ritual  brought  over  from  France  by 
the  chaplain  of  Queen  Bertha,  and  used  by  him 
in  the  church  of  Saint  Martin  at  Canterbury. 
Whether  the  term  is  local  in  its  application, 
or  more  general,  as  referring  to  the  practice  in 


368  MARY  A.  MOLLOY 

the  church  in  Britain  in  proximity  to  Celtic 
influence,  is  not  satisfactorily  settled.  In  either 
case,  that  the  liturgical  differences  were  not  in 
essentials,  we  may  judge  from  Pope  Gregory's 
reply  to  Augustine: 

You  know,  my  brother,  the  custom  of  the  Roman 
church  in  which  you  remember  you  were  bred  up. 
But  it  pleases  me  that  if  you  have  found  anything 
either  in  the  Roman,  or  the  Gallican,  or  any  other 
church,  which  may  be  more  acceptable  to  Almighty 
God,  you  carefully  make  choice  of  the  same,  and 
sedulously  teach  the  church  of  the  English,  which 
as  yet  is  new  in  the  faith,  whatsoever  you  can  gather 
from  the  several  churches.  .  .  .  Choose,  there- 
fore, from  every  church  those  things  that  are  pious, 
religious,  and  upright,  and  when  you  have,  as  it 
were,  made  them  into  one  body,  let  the  minds  of 
the  English  be  accustomed  thereto. 

The  chief  manuscripts  containing  portions 
of  the  Celtic  liturgical  Rite  are  as  follows: 

A.  The  Stowe  Missal,2  an  Irish  manuscript 
of  the  eighth  or  ninth  century.  It  was  discovered 
in  the  eighteenth  century,  and  came  into  the 
possession  of  the  library  of  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham at  Stowe.  It  is  now  in  the  possession  of 
the  Royal  Irish  Academy.  It  contains  a  treatise 
on  the  Mass;  the  Ordinary  and  Canon  of  the 
Mass;    three    Masses;   and    instructions    and 

2  Royal  Irish  Academy  Publications,  1885.  Edited  by 
B.  MacCarthy. 


THE  CELTIC  RITE  369 

orders  for  the  administration  of  some  of  the 
Sacraments. 

B.  The  Bobbio  Missal,3  a  manuscript  of 
the  seventh  century.  It  was  found  at  Bobbio 
in  Italy,  and  is  now  in  the  Bibliotheque  Natio- 
nale  in  Paris. 

C.  (a)  The  Book  of  Dimma4  and  (b)  The 
Book  of  Mulling,4  both  manuscripts  probably  of 
the  eighth  century,  now  in  the  library  of  Trinity 
College,  Dublin;  (c)  The  St.  Gall  Fragments,4 
(d)  The  Basle  Fragment,4  and  (e)  The  Zurich 
Fragment.4 

II.     There  was  a  difference  in  the  form  of 

tonsure  worn. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  twenty-sixth  chapter 
of  the  third  book  of  the  Ecclesiastical  History 
we  read : 

Colman,  perceiving  that  his  doctrine  was  rejected 
and  his  sect  despised,  took  with  him  such  as  would 
not  comply  with  the  Catholic  Easter  and  the  tonsure 
(for  there  was  much  controversy  about  that  also) 
and  went  back  into  Scotland.  .     .     . 

In  his  translation  of  the  Ecclesiastical  His- 
tory,6 Dr.  J.  A.  Giles  says: 

3  In  Ancient  Liturgies  of  the  Gallican  Church.  Published 
by  Neale  and  Forbes. 

4  In  Liturgy  and  Ritual  of  the  Celtic  Church.    Warren. 
6  Fifth  edition,  London,  1884,  p.  160. 


370  MARY  A.  MOLLOY 

The  tonsure,  properly  so  called,  does  not  appear  to 
have  been  adopted  for  the  first  three  centuries  of  the 
church;  but  originated  with  the  earliest  professors 
of  the  monastic  institutions  as  a  distinctive  token 
of  their  renunciation  of  the  pleasures  of  the  world. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  fifth  century  it  began  to  be 
considered,  both  in  the  Greek  and  Latin  churches, 
as  a  necessary  rite  for  admission  into  the  clerical 
offices;  but  who  were  the  originators  of  the  circular 
modes  is  not  known.  The  Roman  clergy  shaved 
the  crown  of  the  head,  which  was  surrounded  by  a 
circle  of  hair,  supposed  to  represent  the  wreath  of 
thorns  forced  by  the  cruelty  of  His  persecutors  on 
the  temples  of  the  Messiah,  and  which  they  pleaded 
had  descended  to  them  from  Saint  Peter.  The 
Scottish6  priests  permitted  the  hair  to  grow  on  the 
back,  and  shaved  the  forepart  of  the  head  from  ear 
to  ear  in  the  form  of  a  crescent  which  their  opponents 
called  in  derision,  the  tonsure  of  Simon  Magus. 

The  probable  derivation  of  the  derisive  epi- 
thet is  of  interest.  "There  is  no  real  evidence," 
says  Jenner,7  "that  this  crescent  tonsure  was  the 
form  favored  by  the  Druids,  yet  it  was  desig- 
nated as  the  tonsura  magorum.  The  term  magus 
was  accepted  as  equivalent  to  druid,  and  to  this 
day  the  Mo^ot  of  Matthew  ii  (1  et  seq.)  are 
druidhean  in  the  Scottish  Gaelic  Bible." 
Whether  or  not  the  crescent  tonsure  was  actu- 
ally worn  by  Simon  Magus,  I  have  been  unable 

•  I.e.,  the  Irish. 

7  Cath.  Ency.,  vol.  iii,  p.  494. 


THE  CELTIC  RITE  371 

to  determine:  whether  it  was  or  not,  it  seems 
quite  likely  that  the  advocates  of  the  coronal 
tonsure,  or  "tonsure  of  Saint  Peter,"  in  their 
defensive  zeal  would  particularize  the  term 
magus,  and  identify  it  with  Simon  Magus  ac- 
cursed of  Saint  Peter.8 

III.     There  was  a  difference  in  the  method  of 
reckoning  the  date  of  Easter. 

The  Easter  controversy,  as  it  was  called, 
dates  as  far  back  as  160  A.  D.  In  its  course, 
it  passed  through  three  distinct  phases. 

The  first  phase  turned  primarily  upon  the 
question  whether  the  feast  of  Easter  was  to  be 
celebrated  on  a  Sunday  or  on  a  week-day. 
The  observance  of  the  feast  on  a  week-day  arose 
from  the  Jewish  tradition  of  observing  the 
Pasch  on  the  fourteenth  day  of  the  moon,  irre- 
spective of  the  day  on  which  the  fourteenth  of 
the  moon  fell.  The  diversity  in  observing  the 
feast  on  a  Sunday  and  on  a  week-day  existed  from 
the  early  decades  of  the  Christian  era.  Saint 
John  the  Apostle  followed  the  so-called  Quarto- 
deciman  observance — "Quartodecimani"  being 
interpreted  as  " devotees  of  the  fourteenth." 
The  decision  that  Easter  was  to  be  observed 
on  no  day  but  Sunday  brought  the  first  phase 
of  the  controversy  to  a  close  in  190  A.  D. 

8  See  Acts,  viii,  20-21. 


372  MARY  A.  MOLLOY 

The  second  phase  in  the  Easter  controversy 
turned  upon  the  reckoning  of  the  Sunday  on 
which  the  feast  was  to  be  kept.  The  Asiatic 
Christians  observed  their  Easter  on  the  Sunday 
after  the  Jews  kept  their  Pasch,  that  is  on  the 
Sunday  after  the  fourteenth  of  Nisan,  the  first 
spring  month.  The  Western  Christians  of  Rome 
and  Alexandria,  at  variance  with  the  Asiatic 
Christians,  calculated  Easter  by  a  method  dif- 
fering from  the  Jewish  method.  The  Jews  arbi- 
trarily intercalated  months  before  Nisan,  their 
first  spring  month,  on  the  fourteenth  of  which 
their  Pasch  was  celebrated.  The  resulting 
lack  of  regularity  in  date  from  year  to  year  may 
be  inferred  from  the  letter  of  Constantine  sent 
to  the  different  churches  sometime  after  the 
Council  of  Nice,  325  A.  D. : 

.  .  .  It  seemed  unworthy  that  we  should  cele- 
brate that  most  holy  festival  with  a  copy  of  the  Jew- 
ish rites  and  customs,  .  .  .  there  are  those  who 
celebrate  a  second  Pasch  in  the  same  year.9  And 
why  should  we  imitate  those  who  are  certainly  afflicted 
with  the  malady  of  error?  Those  who  celebrate  the 
Pasch  on  the  fourteenth  moon,  caring  nothing  for 
the  equinox,  sometimes  did  so  after  the  equinox, 
sometimes  before  it,  because  the  fourteenth  moon 
rose  at  that  time.10 

8  Constantine  means  that  two  Paschs  sometimes  fell 
due  between  one  equinox  and  the  next. 

10  Quoted  from  Theodoret  by  Parsons,  Studies  in  Church 
History,  vol.  i,  p.  113. 


THE  CELTIC  RITE  373 

The  Alexandrians  decided  that  the  Sunday  to  be 
observed  as  Easter  must  fall  after  the  spring 
equinox,  which  was  dated  on  the  twenty-first 
of  March  of  the  Julian  calendar.  The  second 
phase  of  the  Easter  controversy  was  finally 
settled  by  the  Council  of  Nice,  which  decreed: 

1.  Easter  was  to  be  celebrated  by  all  through 
out  the  world  on  the  same  Sunday. 

2.  This  Sunday  must  follow  the  fourteenth 
day  of  the  paschal  moon. 

3.  The  paschal  moon  must  be  the  moon 
whose  fourteenth  day  followed  the  spring  equi- 
nox. 

But  a  new  difficulty  developed.  Rome  and 
Alexandria  calculated  the  paschal  moon  by  dif- 
ferent lunar  cycles.  Rome  adopted  the  one-hun- 
dred -and-twelve-year  cycle  of  Hippolytus,  which 
was  subsequently  discarded  in  favor  of  an  eighty- 
four-year  cycle.  Alexandria  followed  the  nine- 
teen-year cycle  of  Meton.  About  the  middle 
of  the  sixth  century,  Rome  adopted  a  new  cycle 
of  ninety-five  years,  or  an  equivalent  of  five 
Egyptian  cycles.  On  this  difference  in  the  stand- 
ard of  reckoning  rests  the  third  phase"  of  the 
Easter  question. 

The  Easter  Controversy  in  Britain. 

Christianity  was  introduced  into  Britain  some 
time  during  the  Roman  occupation.  It  may 
have  been  in  the  second  century,  but  we  have 


374  MARY  A.  MOLLOY 

positive  evidence  for  the  date  182  in  the  time 
of  Pope  Eleutherus.  The  conquest  of  Britain 
by  the  Saxons  in  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century 
all  but  effaced  the  religion  of  the  island.  The 
adherents  to  the  faith  were  driven  westward  to 
Wales. 

In  432  we  find  the  conversion  of  the  Irish 
begun  by  Saint  Patrick,  and  in  563  we  find 
Saint  Columba  establishing  the  monastery  of 
Iona,  whence  missionaries  were  sent  out  to  the 
north  of  England  and  to  the  Continent. 

When  Saint  Augustine  began  the  christian- 
izing of  the  Saxons  in  Britain  in  597,  he  found 
the  British  Christians  reckoning  Easter  by  the 
eighty-four  year  cycle,  which  Rome  had  aban- 
doned. The  British  and  the  Irish  were  unwill- 
ing to  accept  the  method  of  reckoning  followed 
by  Augustine  and  his  monks,  but  adhered  tena- 
ciously to  the  ancient  manner  of  calculation. 
As  the  Roman  monks  advanced  from  Kent 
northward  into  Northumbria  they  found  the 
converts  made  by  the  Irish  monks  zealous  in 
their  religious  observances  according  to  the 
Celtic  Rite.  An  illustration  of  the  resulting 
state  of  affairs  is  presented  in  the  twenty-fifth 
chapter  of  the  Ecclesiastical  History.    We  read : 

At  this  time  (652)  a  great  and  frequent  controversy 
happened  about  the  observance  of  Easter,  those  that 
came  from  Kent  or  France  affirming  that  the  Scots11 

11  I.e.,  the  Irish. 


THE  CELTIC  RITE  375 

kept  Easter  contrary  to  the  custom  of  the  universal 
church.  .  .  .  Queen  Eanfleda12  and  her  follow- 
ers also  observed  the  same  as  she  had  seen  practised 
in  Kent,  having  with  her  a  Kentish  priest.  .  .  . 
Thus  it  is  said  to  have  happened  in  those  times  that 
Easter  was  twice  kept  in  one  year;  and  that  when 
the  king  having  ended  the  time  of  fasting,  kept  his 
Easter,  the  queen  and  her  followers  were  still  fast- 
ing, and  celebrating  Palm  Sunday. 

As  the  dispute  regarding  the  date  of  Easter 
began  to  occupy  the  thoughts  of  many,  a  synod 
was  called  in  664  at  the  monastery  of  Streon- 
eshalh13  to  settle  the  question.  Colman,  bishop 
of  the  Scots,  came  thither  as  the  defender  of 
the  Celtic  tradition;  Wilfred,  afterwards  arch- 
bishop of  York,  upheld  the  custom  of  Rome. 
Colman  defended  the  Celtic  practice  as  having 
been  followed  by  many  holy  men,  among 
whom  was  Columba.  Wilfred  responded  that 
if  Columba  had  been  informed  of  a  better  prac- 
tice he  would  have  observed  it  as  readily  as  he 
observed  the  commandments  of  God. 

Convinced  at  length  by  the  reasoning  of 
Wilfred,  King  Oswy,14  heretofore  a  staunch 
adherent  of  the  Celtic  practice,  declared  him- 
self ready  to  conform  to  the  teaching  of  Wilfred. 
The  king's  example  was  followed  by  many  of 
his  subjects.     Although  the  British  and  Irish 

12  Queen  of  Northumbria. 

13  Afterwards  called  Whitby. 
u  King  of  Northumbria. 


376  MARY  A.  MOLLOY 

Christians  did  not  all  immediately  conform  to 
the  Roman  Rite,  still  the  Synod  of  Whitby 
practically  marks  the  end  of  the  Easter  contro- 
versy. 

Besides  the  main  points  noted  above  as  char- 
acteristic of  the  Celtic  Rite,  there  was  a  slight 
difference  in  the  manner  of  administering  some 
of  the  Sacraments,  and  a  difference  in  the 
details  of  the  ceremony  for  consecrating  a 
church. 

From  time  to  time,  the  divergent  points 
were  gradually  relinquished,  or  brought  into 
harmony  with  the  Roman  Rite.  Finally  at 
the  Synod  of  Cashel,  Malachy,  the  bishop  of 
Armagh,  effected  the  general  adoption  of  the 
Anglo-Roman  Rite  in  1172. 


TEXTUAL  NOTES   ON   LAYAMON. 

BY  BENTON  S.   MONROE,   PH.D. 

References  are  to  the  lines1  in  Sir  Frederic 
Madden's  edition  of  Layamon's  Brut;  A  =  the 
earlier  text,  about  12052;  B  =  the  later  text, 
about  1250-1275.3  Other  abbreviations  are: 
BS.  =  Bradley-Stratmann's  Middle  English  Dic- 
tionary; Matz.  =Matzner's  Altenglisches  Worter- 
buch  (A  -  misbileven) . 

6  B.  void  pan  gode  cnifite:  cnipte  (for  cnihte) 
is  probably  dative  plural,  'with  the  good  ser- 
vants,' i.e., ' monks,'  an  interpretation  supported 
by  13116,  where  cnihten  means  the  inmates  of 
a  monastery.  Thus  the  two  texts  are  in  sub- 
stantial agreement. 

302  f.  This  passage  reads  like  a  reminiscence 
of  the  hunting  of  William  Rufus  and  Sir  Walter 
Tyrrel. 

1  By  an  oversight  on  p.  15  of  vol.  i.  Madden  failed  to  count 
one  line;  hence  the  total  number  of  lines  in  the  poem  is 
32242. 

2  As  determined  by  Madden  and  generally  accepted. 
Sweet  alone  of  modern  scholars  dissents,  asserting  on 
grounds  not  stated  that  the  older  ms.  was  written  before 
1200  (History  of  English  Sounds,  §582). 

3  The  New  English  Dictionary  gives  the  date  sometimes 
as  1250  (s.v.  alaski,  befall),  sometimes  as  1275  (s.v.  bow, 
catch). 


378  BENTON  S.  MONROE 

313.  hea  der:  'royal  game.'  In  Chronicle  E 
1086  the  phrase  refers  to  the  harts  and  hinds 
and  boars  of  William  the  Conqueror's  forests. 

490  B.  wro pere  hele,  also  29556.  "Not  origi- 
nally a  compound  word,  but  afterwards  be- 
came so"  (Madden,  iii.  444);  apparently  felt 
as  a  compound  as  early  as  the  second  text  of 
Lay.,  as  also  in  Body  and  Soul  450  (Matzner, 
Altenglische  Sprachproben,  p.  103)  and  Piers 
Plowman,  C.  xvi.  301.  Later  occurrences  are 
noted  by  Mead  in  The  Squyr  of  Lowe  Degre,  p. 
63.     Cf.  godere  hcele  3597,  and  Dame  Siriz2Ql. 

570  f.  par  he  mihte  bihalden 
pe  hi  halues  were. 
'There  he  (indefinite  =  any  one)  who  might  be 
(were  =  subjunctive)  near  could  behold,'  a 
formula  occurring  also  at  1007-8,  23881-2, 
24423-4,  26315-6,  the  last  three  passages  having 
me  instead  of  he. 

655.  feie.  Here  and  in  1715,  2478,  'fey' 
seems  to  mean  'dead,'  the  later  text  having  dead 
in  each  case;  cf.  also  pu  scalt  beonfeie  2291  = 
pou  salt  dea)e. 

757.  bache:  a  palatalized  form  of  OE.  -becc 
(in  place-names),  doublet  of  beck;  cf.  hatch,  heck. 
The  more  common  ME.  spelling  of  such  palatal- 
izations appears  in  bcecchen  21776.  Cf.  Mad- 
den's  note,  iii.  446;  Bjorkman,  Scandinavian 
Loan-Words  in  ME.,  p.  148. 

1026.  droflicen:  the  only  occurrence  of  this 
word  in  ME.    Madden  renders  'grievous.' 


NOTES  ON  LAYAMON  379 

1292.  wunnan:  OE.  wynn,  'joy'  in  the  ma- 
terial sense  of  'possessions;'  equivalent  to 
'things,'  'goods'  (3421);  so  22668,  26378. 

1435.  han  for  haven,  habben;  the  earliest 
example  I  have  noted. 

1460.  bleinte:  'blenched';  one  of  a  small 
group  of  words  in  which  before  the  consonantal 
combinations  -nc,  -ng,  -nh,  e-  developed  into  a 
ME.  diphthong,  ei;  cf.  Hart,  Standard  English 
Speech,  p.  43;  Morsbach,  Mittelenglische  Gram- 
matik,  §107,  Anm.  3.  In  these  words  Lay.  has 
a  curious  variety  of  forms:  adrengte  2568, 
drengte  12111  (B  adreinte,  so  21629),  adrenten 
20974,  adrente  25698  (B  adreind);  aseingde 
25697  (aseint);  bleinte  1460  (bleinte);  leinten 
30625  (leinte);  gengden  12865  (geinde),  geinde 
(geinde)  1594,  4568,  10767,  gende  30421;  mceinde 
4318, 17739  (meingde),  mceingde  14368  (meynde), 
mengde  15530,  25126  (meinde);  swende  6424, 
26053  ([sw]einde),  sweinde  8183,  21423  (swey- 
ncde),  27627,  27780  (sweinde). 
\  Apparently,  then,  the  diphthonging  was  a 
process  of  the  early  thirteenth  century,  com- 
pleted by  the  time  of  the  second  text. 

1970  B.  turne:  "probably  the  contracted  (or 
strong)  form  of  the  past  tense"  (Madden,  iii, 
454) .  Madden  notes  several  such  forms,  many 
of  those  in  the  earlier  text  being  corrected  by  a 
second  hand:  )cereke  to  ^cerekede  6111,  luue  to 
luuede  11072,  etc.  Following  is  a  full  list,  in- 
cluding those  given  by  Madden,  of  such  clipped 
preterits. 


380  BENTON  S.  MONROE 

answare  7739,  10988,  14874,  15454,  25234  B, 
31493B. 

biburien  2097. 

cleope  2673B,  10370B,  11620,  16525,  20128B, 
21981,  22127,  22825 B;  in  16375  cleopede  has 
de  interlined  by  the  original  hand. 

ende  26817. 

forhusce  3171 ;  BS.  and  Matz.  would  read 
forhuste. 

gadere  3820,  3844,  5247,  5486,  9252, 10380  B, 
12405  B,  17572,  25352 B,  29088,  29667,  30009, 
30502. 

[help  9263]. 

loue  US7B,  6055,  6983  B. 

make  3175,  6581  B,  14809,  28067;  cf.  footnote 
to  29432. 

somne  20491  B,  22327B,  28670  B. 

stike  7533;  BS.  prints  stike{de). 

strene  11185  B,  15581  B. 

turne  1970  B,  3069  B,  17527  B. 

wedde  14391  (rime  wedde:  bedde). 

wone  7020  B,  14320  B. 

"Similar  forms  are  found  nearly  two  centuries 
later,  in  the  Wycliffite  Bible"  (Madden);  see 
the  glossary  to  Skeat's  edition  (Oxford,  1879) 
s.v.  clepe,  etc.  They  appear  frequently  in  the 
metrical  Zi/e  ofSt.Cuthbert*  (about  1450), nearly 
always  in  rime,  as  wedde  above;  cf.  Lessmann, 
Englische   Studien,   xxiv.    187-191.     The  phe- 

4  Edited  by  J.  T.  Fowler  for  the  Surtees  Society,  vol. 
lxxxvii,  1889. 


N 


NOTES  ON  LAYAMON  381 

nomenon  in  Lay.  is  confined  for  the  most  part 
to  verbs  of  the  second  weak  conjugation  (Lange, 
Das  Zeitwort  in  den  beiden  Handschriften  von 
La)amon's  Brut,  Strassburg,  1906,  p.  129) ;  yet 
note  strene  first  weak.  Lange  adds,  "Die 
dreisilbigen  Formen  dieser  Konj.  wurden  von 
den  Sprechern  und  den  Schreibern  gern  ge- 
kiirzt." 

1989,  1993.  Icende:  preterit  of  lenden,  'pro- 
vided with  lands,  enfiefed.' 

2512.  alch  mon  mihte  far  en  $end  hire  lond 
paih   he   here   reed  gold. 

A  proverbial  expression;  an  earlier  instance 
than  those  noted  by  Madden,  iii.  314,  may  be 
found  in  Bede,  ii.  16. 

2545.  uniselSe:  OE.  ungesseW  with  a  stronger 
meaning;  the  word  has  developed  from  passive 
'unhappiness'  to  active  'wickedness.' 

2568.  The  use  of  poison  is  not  infrequent  in 
Lay.;  cf.   11326,   14998,   17740,  19768,  28778. 

2678.  Maidene  castel:  several  castles  have 
been  thus  called.  To  Madden's  note  we  may 
add  Malory,  Morte  Darthur,  book  xiii.  chap, 
xiiii.,  and  Scott,  Kenilworth,  chap.  xix. 

2836.  Bladud:  on  this  king  see  Sayce,  The 
Legend  of  King  Bladud,  in  Y  Cymmrodor,  x. 
207-221. 

3257.  finden.  'supply,  furnish,  provide  with,' 
a  common  meaning  (not  given  in  BS.),  surviv- 
ing dialectally  in  America. 

3895.  preo  dozies  hit  rinde  blod:     cf .  Chronicle 


382  BENTON  S.  MONROE 

F  685:  Her  wearp  on  Brytene  blodi  ren.  ond 
meolc  ond  butere  wurdon  gewend  to  blode.  The 
whole  passage  rather  recalls  the  plagues  of 
Egypt,  Exodus,  vii-x. 

4213  B,  23954.  ileired:  BS.,  questioning  the 
form,  cites  the  second  passage  under  ^efce^rien, 
'?make  fair.'  The  word  seems,  however,  to 
belong  under  leiren.  The  sense  in  Lay.  is 
'overlaid;'  cf.  4213  A  ihelede,  'covered.' 
4226  B.  tolimikede:  read  tolimede. 
4264.  burje:  the  only  occurrence  of  the  letter 
j,  except  in  proper  names,  in  the  printed  text 
of  Lay. 

4566.  sceht:  'went,  fell  out';  preterit  of  sse)en, 
OE.  ssegan. 

4738.  graneden,  5199  greine,  23909  grceneden: 
in  Matz.,  but  not  in  BS.;  cf.  Bjorkman,  Scand. 
Loan-words  in  ME.,  p.  55. 

4751.  sixti  pusende:  Wace  says  quinze  mil- 
liers;  cf.  28293  an  hunddred  pusende  =  Wace 
soisante  mil.  With  reference  to  the  enormous 
armies  which  the  imagination  of  Layamon  con- 
jured up  on  the  field  of  battle,  the  following 
paragraph  is  worth  quoting: 

''I  have  lost  no  opportunity  of  testing  these 
[extraordinary  estimates  of  numbers  by  the 
Chroniclers],  wherever  possible,  by  comparison 
with  more  authentic  personal  or  Record  evi- 
dence, the  last  being  the  only  authority  really 
trustworthy.  The  result  is  that  I  find  again 
that  multiplication  by  ten  might  almost  be 


N 


NOTES  ON  LAYAMON  383 

called  a  normal  rate  of  amplification.  Whether 
dealing  with  the  strength  of  an  army,  or  the 
produce  of  a  tax,  the  student  prima  facie  will 
do  well  to  take  one-tenth  of  any  number  given 
if  he  would  arrive  at  a  proper  estimate.  In 
some  cases  that  proportion  would  be  found  too 
large." — Sir  James  H.  Ramsay,  The  Angevin 
Empire,  p.  vi. 

4785.  sckere:  an  adj.,  'clear,  free'  =  scere 
12752 ;  a  quasi  legal  term  occurring  in  the  form 
scyr  in  Chron.  E.  963,  Plummer,  p.  116. 

5228.  irumed:  from  OE.  geryman.  BS.  and 
Matz.  cite  the  participle  only  with  unrounded  i. 

5641.  to^ernde,  10042  to^erneS,  29010  toje- 
ornden:  a  compound  not  noted  in  BS. 

6099.  bezste.  The  glossary,  p.  530,  s.v.  bet, 
has  be)st,  etc.,  whereas  in  the  text  these  forms 
have  z  instead  of  ). 

6302.  sprong  pat  word  wide:  cf.  26242;  a 
formula  of  frequent  occurrence,  earliest  in 
Beowulf  18. 

6312.  pe  la)e  hehte  Marciane:  see  further 
references  on  the  Martian  law  in  Plummer, 
Life  and  Times  of  Alfred  the  Great,  p.  63. 

6508.  and  to  pan  king  weo&ede:  Madden 
was  right  in  taking  weoSede  as  =  wse&de,  pret. 
of  OE.  wseoan,  meaning  specifically  'to  hunt/ 
but  here  used  in  a  more  general  sense :  '  and  to 
the  king  leaped/  'upon  the  king  sprang.'  Not 
inBS. 

6725.  pringe:  for   dringe;   so    12448,   14461, 


384  BENTON  S.  MONROE 

14966B;  also  in  the  compound  here-pringen, 
22080,  23800,  etc. 

7027  B.  pf  }eo  were  fair  and  fore  =  A  )if  heo 
wes  a  wiht  hende:  fair  and  fore  sounds  like  a 
proverbial  alliterative  formula;  if  so,  fore  must 
have  been  common.  Madden  translates  fore 
by  'good';  better  perhaps  would  be  'active.' 
The  word  is  to  be  connected  with  faran;  it  may- 
be a  miswriting  of  fere5  (cf.  feore  17618  A), 
though  o  for  e,  however  frequent  in  the  earlier 
text,  does  not  occur  in  the  later.  We  find,  how- 
ever, o  for  ea,  lok  =  leac,  in  B  15311.  Such  a 
scribal  error  may  have  been  helped  by  the  rime 
fore:  hore.  For  the  spelling  o  cf.  Sweet,  History 
of  English  Sounds,  §  682. 

7223-4.  wale  pat  eceuere  ei  sucche  mon 
in  to  eazlde  sculde  gan. 
Ecelde  is  not  an  error  for  helle  as  Madden  as- 
sumed, following  the  B  text,  but  =  elde,  'age'; 
cf.  celdde  2989,  celde  24118,  ealde  25913  B.  The 
meaning  is  '  Alas  that  ever  any  such  man  should 
grow  old.' 

7526.  &  Julius  noht  ne  na  brw&:  breed  is  a 
palpable  corruption,  -ce<5  being  on  an  erasure. 
I  propose  the  reading  bread  for  abread  {abreocSan, 
'fail'),  'Julius  did  not  give  up.' 

7675.  bli&ere,  '  cowardlier' :  comparative  of 
Mead  =  bletSere  23620,  which  the  first  hand 
wrote  bleiere,  comparative  of  bleat.  BS.  has 
only  bletere. 

6  On  this  word  see  Bjorkman,   Scandinavian  Loan-Word? 
in  Middle  English,  p.  237. 


NOTES  ON  LAYAMON  385 

8039.  to-]ere: '  to-year',  like  'to-day' ;  so  12477, 
14657  B,  and  frequently. 

8086.  iboned,  'adorned.'  The  word  belongs 
with  ibon  12805,  14294,  25788,  32037.  This 
is  the  earliest  instance  of  the  inorganic  -d. 
Matz.  in  his  note  on  14294  says  of  iboned  "frei- 
lich  auffallend,"  and  in  his  dictionary,  ''irrthiim- 
lich  gebildet." 

8133.  twuelbrede:  not  'game  board'  as  BS., 
but  'table-board,'  the  board  on  which  the  game 
of  tables  was  played;  cf.  B  pleoide  mid  tavel. 
For  an  account  of  this  game  and  its  relation  to 
chess,  together  with  comments  on  the  treatment 
of  the  word  in  dictionaries,  cf.  Fiske,  Chess  in 
Iceland,  pp.  69  ff.,  157  ff. 

8176  B.  mid  grampene  strengpe:  gram  pene 
should  be  printed  as  two  words;  the  meaning 
is  'with  (the)  furious  strength';  cf.  mid  hure 
gram  reses  5200  B,  where  A  reads  mid  grimme 
oure  rwsen.  This  order  of  words,  the  article  or  a 
possessive  between  the  adjective  and  the  noun, 
is  a  mannerism  of  Layamon's  style,  the  two 
texts  together  from  line  6  to  line  32060  furnish- 
ing nearly  three  hundred  examples.  The  phe- 
nomenon is  not  unknown  in  Old  English;  a 
noteworthy  example  is  on  wlancan  pam  wicge 
in  the  Battle  of  Maldon  1.  240. 

8632  B.  soch:  for  soh,  sdh,  preterit  of  sigan; 
similarly  ch  appears  for  h  in  dochter  3373,  ocht 
18355,  18426. 

8785.  auerst:  apparently  an  error  for  auerft  = 


386  BENTON  S.  MONROE 

auereft,  'ever  hereafter.'  Matzner  notes  the 
phrase,  but  has  no  examples  earlier  than  Robert 
of  Gloucester. 

9798.  to-stope?i,  to-stepen  17406;  both  pret. 
indie,  pi.    This  compound  is  not  in  BS. 

11791.  a&neowe:  adj.  'ready'  (Madden);  a 6 
=  e&  =  ed,  OE.  ed  (ead)  -  neowe.  Not  in  BS. 
or  Matz. 

11973  B.  pirkede  ( =  A  swurhen) .  Bosworth- 
Toller,  s.v.  Sweorcan,  suggest  the  reading  dirkede, 
'became  dark.'  The  p  is  perhaps  due  to  peost- 
ren.     Not  in  BS. 

12256  B.  beor-time  =  bere-time  (OE.  here),1  bear- 
ing-time, birth.'    An  unrecorded  compound. 

12517.  cceppen  (B  cnihtes);  cf.  keppe  19949 
(B  kempe).  Perhaps  a  miswriting  for  cseppen, 
keppe  =  ccemppe,  kemppe. 

12752.  scere:  cf.  above  on  4785. 

12834  B.  stilleworpe:  apparently  a  corrupt 
form  of  stalwurpe.  Madden's  translation 
'peaceful'  (as  if  connected  with  still)  does  not 
square  with  the  context.    A  has  cehte. 

14029.  Madden's  translation  of  hit  wes  heom 
at  hele  as  'it  was  safety  to  them'  does  not  fit 
the  context;  cf.  B  hii  hadde  mochel  care.  Hence, 
if  it  be  not  too  modern,  read  helle  for  hele:  'it 
was  hell  to  them'  (the  Picts). 

16952.  to  brosene:  read  tobrosened,  participle 
of  lobrosnian,  'decayed.'  For  a  similar  loss 
of  d  in  the  past  participle  cf.  igadere  18659. 


NOTES  ON  LAYAMON  387 

17501.  )ewur&ede:  The  prefix  ge-,  normally 
becoming  i-  in  Lay.,  is  here  preserved,  the  only 
instance  in  the  poem. 

18730.  seollic:  in  form  an  adjective,  yet  here 
and  often  elsewhere,  19600,  23025,  etc.,  used  as 
a  noun.  The  word  develops  like  ferlic  (ferli) 
from  fcerlic. 

18836.  ceuere:  occurs  repeatedly  as  a  quasi 
substantive  in  the  phrase  longe  is  (beo3)  ceuere, 
18836,  23159,  28122,  etc.,  a  reduction  of  the 
longer  formula  swa  longe  swa  bid  ceuere,  20823, 
23179,  etc.     Cf . '  forever  is  a  good  while. ' 

21744,  uniuele,  22018  unfcele.  A  comparison 
of  these  passages  shows  that  BS.'s  'insensible' 
(OE.  ungefxle)  is  too  strong;  better  would  be 
'harmful'  (pinge,  water).  In  23868,  guided  by 
onseale  in  B  (cf.  unisele  26446),  for  unuele  read 
unsele.  Apparently  unfcele  is  applied  only  to 
inanimate  objects. 

22153.  sunded,  also  24766,  and  seondeS 
27319:  variants  of  sunden,  -e6  for  -en,  possibly 
on  the  analogy  of  the  regular  verb.  A  further 
anomaly  is  sunde  24278,  for  be  (o),  third  sing, 
pres.  subj. 

22297.  beouweden.  The  first  scribe  seems  to 
have  meant  this  for  a  weak  preterit  of  bu)en, 
OE.  bugan.  The  second,  altering  to  beoveden, 
apparently  meant  'shook,'  using  bivien,  OE. 
bifian,  transitively.  The  former  makes  better 
sense.  Matzner  records  a  weak  pret.  bouwed 
in  La>  16572  B,  the  corresponding  line  in  A 


388  BENTON  S.  MONROE 

having  the  strong  form  bu)e)en  for  bu)en.  Lay. 
has  beoueden,  'quivered/  as  an  intransitive  verb 
in  28357. 

24539.  gu&inge:  connected  with  god;  cf.  god- 
liche  18857,  gudliche  860,  gu&liche  99,  go&liche 
10761,  gutSfulle  2956,  11531;  gouthliche  Dame 
Siriz  5,  in  Matzner,  Altenglische  Sprachproben, 
p.  105. 

25440.  purh-costned:  for  Madden's  'com- 
pletely provided,'  adopted  in  BS.,  read  'thor- 
oughly experienced.' 

25509.  for-leoseden:  not,  as  Madden  assumed, 
a  weak  preterit  of  forleosen,  but  =  forloseden 
26270,  preterit  of  for-losien. 

27030  B.  afor.ged:  read  aforewed  =  aforewerd; 
r  is  similarly  lost  info&e  for  for  &e  3226,  14819; 
fomest  for  formest  18440  B,  etc. 

27797.  prcefliche:  an  adverb  formed  on  prcef-, 
in  prafian,  prafung;  'in  crowds,  oppressively, 
furiously.' 

29145.  sum  hit  to  Wales  wende:  an  early  in- 
stance of  (h)it  as  the  impersonal  (cognate)  ob- 
ject of  the  verb.  Cf.  also  pus  heo  hit  longe 
bitumen  7536,  and  Chron.  E  1009;  Sa  after  mid- 
danwintra  hi  namon  pa  cenne  upgang  ut  purh 
Ciltern  and  swa  to  Oxneforda  and  pa  burh  for- 
bcerndon  and  namon  hit  pa  on  twa  healfe  Temese 
to  scipan  weard. 

29400.  bilaste:  'fulfilled, made  good';  the  short- 
ened form  of  the  preterit  of  OE.  *bilxstan.  The 
compound  with  be-,  bi-  seems  to  have  escaped 
the  lexicographers. 


NOTES  ON  LAYAMON  389 

29987.  alo&ede:  Madden's  'submitted'  is  evi- 
dently ad  hoc;  the  form  is  from  ala&ien:  al  hit 
him  alo&ede;  pat  he  on  lokede  =  'it  all  became 
loathsome  to  him  that  he  looked  on.'  Yet 
this  does  not  accord  very  closely  with  the 
context. 

30787.  here-cnihten:  The  dictionaries  have 
heredring,  herekempe,  heregume,  etc.;  herecniht 
should  be  added. 

31087.  whit  sunne:  white  in  the  sense  of  'beau- 
tiful/ an  early  example.  In  this  transfer  lies 
the  origin  of  white  as  a  term  of  endearment  in 
the  Elizabethan  period  and  during  the  seven- 
teenth century  (e.g.,  Roister  Doister,  i.  1.49; 
Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  vii.  66;  A  Look- 
ing Glasse  for  London  and  England,  1282;  cf. 
note  by  Collins  in  his  edition  of  Greene,  i.  299), 
and  thence  of  white  as  a  slang  term  of  commen- 
dation. 

31500.  ar&  =  arj  <  OE.  earh;  so  we  find  & 
for  3  in  peond  1604,  peden  3635,  lipe  13703  B; 
and  cf.  Widre  ceastre  sa'reChron.  E  1087. 

31812.  ioxned:  'oxened,  provided  with  oxen, 
yoked,'  a  coinage  by  Lay.  like  OE.  gehorsian. 
Not  in  the  dictionaries. 


ADDISON   AND  GRAY  AS  TRAVELERS 


BY  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP,  PH.D. 


I. 


It  may  be  worth  while  at  the  beginning  of 
this  paper  to  recall  the  fact  that  Addison  and 
Gray  were  almost  the  only  literary  men  of 
importance  in  their  day  who  traveled  in  the 
south  of  Europe  and  left  records  of  their  impres- 
sions.1 Neither  Dryden  nor  Swift  ever  saw  the 
Continent.  In  1727  Swift  had  thoughts  of 
trying  the  waters  at  Aix-la-Chapelle;  but  he 
took  Bolingbroke's  advice  and  staid  at  home. 
Locke,  Addison's  predecessor  in  the  commission- 
ership  of  appeals,  saw  France  and  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, but  was  turned  back  from  an  intended 
trip  to  Rome  in  1678  by  the  dangerous  condi- 
tion of  the  Alpine  passes.  Collier  apparently 
did  not  leave  England.  Steele  saw  service  for 
a  few  years  (from  1G94  on)  in  the  second  troop 
of  Life  Guards,  but  has  left  no  record  of  having 


1  The  attitude  of  too  many  Englishmen  toward  travel  in 
the  eighteenth  century  was  that  which  DeFoe  (about  1728-9) 
admirably  described  in  The  Compleat  English  Gentleman 
(ed.  Biilbring),  pp.  38-39. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  391 

crossed  the  Channel.  The  author  of  Robinson 
Crusoe  and  A  New  Voyage  Round  the  World 
apparently  never  got  farther  away  than  Scot- 
land; his  Tour  Through  Great  Britain  (1724-6) 
may  or  may  not  be  partly  based  on  personal 
experiences.  Pope  spent  his  whole  life  in  Eng- 
land, about  which  he  traveled  somewhat.  Of 
Gray's  contemporaries  Richardson  passed  his 
life  in  England,  and  Fielding  lived  there  until 
the  last  year  of  his  life;  his  Journal  of  a  Voyage  to 
Lisbon  was  posthumously  published.  Conyers 
Middleton  visited  Rome.  Johnson  was  a  con- 
siderable traveler,  making  journeys  to  the  Heb- 
rides, Wales,  and  Paris.  An  intended  journey 
to  Italy  was  abandoned  on  account  of  the  death 
of  Thrale's  son.2  Goldsmith's  travels  are  well 
known,  of  course,  through  chapter  xx  of  The 
Vicar  of  Wakefield.  Gibbon  spent  much  time 
on  the  Continent,  traveling  in  Italy  between 
April,  1764,  and  May,  1765.  Hume  visited 
Austria  and  northern  Italy.  Shenstone  never 
left  England.  Collins  visited  France,  but  left 
no  record  of  his  journey.  Finally,  the  travels 
of  Walpole  are  known  to  us  chiefly  through 
his  celebrated  Letters;  he  apparently  disliked 
more  formal  composition. 

It  is  my  aim  to  record  the  results  of  a  com- 
parison of  the  observations  of  Addison  and  of 

1  See  "Johnson's  Travels  and  Love  of  Travelling,"  Bos- 
well,  Life,  ed.  Hill,  iii,  449-59. 


392  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

Gray3  on  what  they  saw  in  the  course  of  their 
travels.  What  were  the  objects  that  impressed 
each  of  them  most?  To  what  extent  can  each 
be  pronounced  an  observer  typical  of  his  own 
time?  In  what  way  do  their  travels  appear 
to  have  affected  their  subsequent  writings  in 
general? 

II. 

In  the  summer  of  1699  Addison  crossed  the 
Channel  to  Calais  and  went  at  once  to  Paris. 

3  In  this  study  the  following  writings  have  been  examined: 

ADDISON. 

Remarks  on  Several  Parts  of  Italy,  &c,  in  the  Years  1701, 
1702,  1708.  London,  1705.  In  Addison's  Works,  Bohn's 
Standard  Library,  London,  1890,  i,  356-538.  I  have  re- 
ferred to  the  latter  edition  as  more  generally  accessible. 

Letters.  In  his  Works,  ed.  Bohn,  v,  322 — 340,  written  be- 
tween September,  1699,  and  May,  1703  (France,  Italy,  and 
Germany). 

Letter  from  Italy,  to  the  Right  Hon.  Charles  Lord  Halifax, 
in  the  year  1701.     In  his  Works,  ed.  Bohn,  i,  29-37. 

See  also  Samuel  Johnson,  Life  of  Addison,  in  Prefaces 
Bibliographical  and  Critical  to  the  Works  of  the  English  Poets, 
London,  1779-81 ;  Nathaniel  Ogle,  Life  of  Addison,  London, 
1826;  Miss  Aikin's  Life  of  Addison,  London,  1843,  i,  97-131, 
chapter  iv;  Macaulay,  "The  Life  and  Writings  of  Addison," 
The  Edinburgh  Review,  July,  1843,  lxxviii,  especially  pp.  204- 
213,  also  in  his  Critical  and  Miscellaneous  Essays,  ed.  Mon- 
tague, London,  1903,  iii,  328-339;  J.  J.  Ampere,  La  Grece, 
Rome  &  Dante,  Paris,  1854,  pp.  163-165;  J.  Murray  Graham, 
An  Historical  View  of  Literature  and  Art  in  Great  Britain,  2d 
ed.,  London,  1872,  pp.  233f . ;  W.  J.  Courthope,  Addison,  Lon- 
don, 1884,  pp.  38-52,  chapter  in;  Edmund  Gosse,  "Addison's 
Travels,"  in    Literature,    December   11,  1897,  i,    241f.,   re- 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  393 

The  record  of  his  experiences  in  France  is  con- 
tained only  in  his  letters.  Writing  to  Con- 
greve  from  Blois  in  December,  he  enthusiasti- 
cally described  Versailles  and  Fontainebleau. 
The  situation  among  rocks  and  woods  gave  "a 
fine  variety  of  savage  prospects."  "There  is 
an  artificial  wilderness  in  the  meadows,  walks 
and  canals,  and  the  garden,  instead  of  a  wall,  is 
fenced  on  the  lower  end  by  a  natural  mound  of 
rock-work  that  strikes  the  eye  very  agreeably." 
Of  Versailles  he  thought  the  pleasantest  part 

printed  in  H.  D.  Traill,  ed.,  Among  My  Books,  New  York, 
1899,  pp.  51-56;  Camillo  von  Klenze,  The  Interpretation  of 
Italy  During  the  Last  Two  Centuries,  Chicago,  1907,  pp.  20-22. 
I  have  not  seen  Jean  Le  Clerc's  Observations  upon  Mr. 
Addison's  Travels  through  Italy,  etc.  .  .  .  Done  from  the 
French  by  Mr.  Theobald,  London,  1715,  which,  von  Klenze 
says,  "amount  to  nothing  but  a  short  abstract  of  Addison's 
book."  Nor  have  I  seen  N.  Drake's  Essays,  Biographical, 
Critical,  and  Historical,  Illustrative  of  the  Taller,  Spectator, 
and  Guardian,  London,  1805. 

GRAY. 

Gray's  Notes  of  Travel.  France,  Italy,  Scotland.  In  Dun- 
can C.  Tovey,  Gray  and  his  Friends,  Cambridge,  1890,  pp. 
201-265. 

Journal  in  France.  In  his  Works,  ed.  Gosse,  2d  edition, 
London,  1902,  i,  235-246. 

Criticisms  on  Architecture  and  Painting  During  a  Tour  in 
Italy.  In  Gray's  Works,  ed.  Mitford,  Pickering,  1836,  iv, 
225-305.     Not  reprinted.     Deals  only  with  Rome. 

Journal  in  the  Lakes,  1769.  In  Works,  ed.  Gosse,  i,  247-281. 

Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  ii,  London,  1900-4.  Nos.  xiv-xlviii, 
written  between  April  1, 1739,  and  April  21, 1741  (France  and 
Italy).  Nos.  cvi,  July  24,  1753;  cxi,  Oct,  18,  1753  (the 
north  of  England).     No.  clxxiii,  Sept.  6,  1758  (to  Palgrave 


394  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

was  the  gallery.  Writing  to  Montagu  he  said 
the  French  were  the  happiest  nation  in  the 
world.  "There  is  nothing  to  be  met  with  in  the 
country  but  mirth  and  poverty."  There  was, 
he  thought,  more  mirth  in  the  French  conversa- 
tion, and  more  wit  in  the  English.  Belles- 
lettres  he  found  but  short-lived,  because  of  the 
shadow  of  ecclesiasticism.  Returning  from 
Blois  to  Paris,  he  had  conversations  on  liter- 
ature with  Malbranche4  and  Boileau,  which  he 
vividly  described  to  Bishop  Hough. 

On  December  12,  1700,5  Addison  left  Mar- 
in the  north  of  England).  No.  ccxlv,  Dec.  4,  1762  (Eng- 
land). 

Letters,  in  his  Works,  ed.  Gosse,  vol.  iii.  Nos.  lxvii-lxix, 
Oct.  13— Nov.  19,  1764  (southern  England).  No.  lxxiv, 
March,  1765  (France  and  Italy).  Nos.  Ixxxi,  lxxxii,  Aug., 
Sept.,  1765,  lxxxv,  1765  (northern  England  and  Scotland). 
Nos.  xc,  xci,  Aug.  26,  1766  (Kent).  No.  cxiii,  Sept.  11,  1767 
(the  north  of  England).  Nos.  clxxiii,  clxxiv,  Aug.  24,  1770 
(the  west  of  England). 

See  also  Ampere,  op.  cit.,  pp.  165-6;  Gosse,  Gray,  English 
Men  of  Letters  Series,  1882;  von  Klenze,  op.  cit.,  pp.  18, 
n.  2,  25,  n.  1 ;  Myra  Reynolds,  The  Treatment  of  Nature  in 
English  Poetry  between  Pope  and  Wordsworth,  2d  ed.,  Chi- 
cago, 1909.  Miss  Reynolds  for  practical  reasons  confines  her 
study  to  travels  in  England.  The  results  of  this  paper  will 
show,  I  think,  that  she  has  erred,  at  least  slightly,  in  doing 
so. 

4  Malbranche  spoke  of  Hobbes  to  Addison  as  a  pauvre 
esprit.  Macaulay's  translation  of  this,  "a  poor  silly  crea- 
ture," seems  hardly  just. 

6  By  an  explainable  blunder  Addison  (Remarks  on  Italy, 
Works,  ed.  Bohn,  i.  358)  has  it  1699;  he  was  thinking  of  the 
year  he  left  England.  His  letters,  however,  show  that  he 
was  in  France  from  the  summer  of  1699  until  December,  1700. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  395 

seilles  for  Genoa  in  a  tartane.  At  Cassis  he  saw 
from  a  distance  the  mountains  where  Mary 
Magdalene  was  said  to  have  passed  her  last 
years  in  penance,  and  thought  it  was  possibly 
the  place  where,  according  to  Claudian,  Ulysses 
summoned  the  ghosts.  At  San  Remo  he  noted 
the  fortunate  mildness  of  the  climate;  "without 
this  natural  benefit  of  their  climates,  the  ex- 
treme misery  and  poverty  that  are  in  most  of 
the  Italian  governments  would  be  insupport- 
able." In  describing  Genoa  he  first  speaks  of 
the  cunning,  industry,  and  hardihood  of  the 
people,  traits  which  existed  when  the  classic 
poets  described  the  Ligurians.  The  city  seemed 
to  him  the  noblest  show  in  the  world.  He  dis- 
liked, however,  the  custom  of  painting  the  pil- 
lars of  houses  and  palaces.  Of  the  government 
the  most  remarkable  feature  was  the  Bank  of 
St.  George,  organized  to  discharge  loans  made 
by  private  persons  to  the  government.  He 
thought  the  power  wielded  by  this  bank  a  check 
on  the  aristocracy.  He  comments  on  the  ex- 
posed site  of  the  city  and  on  the  smallness  of 
the  fleet  (six  galleys),  which  the  French  king 
obliged  the  Genoese  not  to  exceed. 

At  Pavia  he  was  interested  in  the  genuineness 
of  the  reputed  tomb  of  St.  Augustine,  discovered 

Neither  Tickell  nor  Hurd  perceived  the  mistake.  Macaulay 
gives  the  correct  date.  Geo.  W.  Greene's  ed.  (Putnam,  1853, 
ii,  139)  has  it  1670,  though  he  obviously  has  another  date 
in  mind;  cf.  his  note. 


396  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

three  years  before;  he  was  somewhat  skeptical. 
Of  the  Cathedral  at  Milan  (then  unfinished)  the 
interior  greatly  disappointed  him.  Externally 
he  was  concerned  not  so  much  with  the  archi- 
tecture^— it  was  merely  a  "vast  Gothic  pile  of 
building  ...  all  of  marble,  except  the  roof" — 
as  with  the  freshness  of  the  marble  washed  with 
rains.  The  chapel  in  which  San  Carlo  Borro- 
meo  lies,  and  which  presented  to  Dickens  so 
striking  and  ghastly  a  contrast,6  Addison  men- 
tions (it  made  no  special  impression  on  him) 
only  to  dwell  on  the  philanthropic  life  of  the 
saint,  and  on  the  canonization  of  modern  saints. 
He  mentions  very  few  pictures  and  criticizes 
none  beyond  noting  that  in  the  Celestine  fresco 
on  the  marriage  at  Cana  one  figure  has  six  fin- 
gers. He  comments  at  some  length  on  the  con- 
trast between  the  airy,  humorous  French  and 
the  sedate,  awkward  Italians,  a  contrast  due, 
he  thinks,  to  the  influence  of  free  conversation 
with  women. 

Thence  he  proceeded  via  Brescia  and  Ve- 
rona to  Padua.  At  Verona  he  was  reminded 
not  of  Romeo  and  Juliet  or  the  Two  Gentlemen, 
but  of  Claudian's  description  of  a  wild  beast 
brought  into  the  amphitheatre,  and  of  the  arch 
of  Flaminius,  with  its  "old  Doric  pillars  with- 
out any  pedestal  or  base,  as  Vitruvius  has  de- 
scribed them."     Writing  of    Padua,  Addison 

6  Pictures  from  Italy,  Oxford  India  Paper  Edition,  p.  97. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  397 

made  an  exception  to  his  rule  of  having  little 
to  do  with  the  saints  and  their  fables,  and  re- 
printed, with  a  translation,  the  story  of  St. 
Anthony  preaching  to  the  fishes,  which  is  said 
to  have  happened  at  Rimini. 

At  Venice  he  was  chiefly  interested  in  the 
site  from  the  point  of  view  of  defences  and  the 
possible  receding  of  the  sea;  in  the  commerce; 
in  the  furniture  of  the  palaces ;  in  the  future  of 
the  republic;  and  in  the  operas  and  comedies, 
all  of  which  he  thought  were  poor.  No  thought 
of  Antonio  the  merchant  or  of  Shylock  seems 
to  have  entered  his  mind;  but  he  was  interested 
in  a  poor  opera  on  Cato,  which  apparently 
moved  him  to  rewrite  his  own  tragedy  on  the 
subject.7 

At  Ferrara  the  cathedral  made  no  impres- 
sion on  him;  and  the  chief  feature  of  Ariosto's 

7  The  question  of  when  Addison  composed  the  first  four 
acts  of  Cato,  as  bearing  on  how  he  spent  his  time  while  in 
Italy,  has  some  interest  here.  The  remarks  of  Tonson, 
Pope,  and  Young  are  to  be  found  in  Spence's  Anecdotes 
(1820),  p.  46.  The  various  conflicting  statements  are  quoted 
by  Ogle  (Life,  pp.  xix-xxi,  lvi-lx)  and  by  Greene  (Addison, 
Works,  New  York,  1853,  i,  367-371);  cf.  Miss  Aikin,  Life, 
ii,  76-80,  Addison's  Works,  ed.  Bohn,  vi,  715.  My  interpre- 
tation of  the  evidence  substantially  agrees  with  Ogle's 
(though  I  differ  on  some  points) :  that  Addison  wrote  a 
tragedy  (probably  in  five  acts)  on  Cato  while  at  Oxford  and 
submitted  it  to  Dryden;  that  he  subsequently,  and  presum- 
ably while  on  his  travels  (very  likely  prompted  to  it  by  see- 
ing the  poor  play  in  Venice),  substantially  rewrote  the  first 
four  acts,  but  did  nothing  then  with  the  fifth,  and  actually 
rewrote  it  several  years  later.    There  seems  to  be  no  good 


398  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

monument  was  the  epitaph,  which  he  copied. 
The  site  of  Ravenna,  then  four  miles  from  the 
coast,  is  discussed.  The  Rubicon  recalled 
Lucan's  description.  Rimini  did  not  suggest 
Francesca;  he  noted  only  the  bridge  of  Augus- 
tus and  Tiberius,  the  Arco  d'Augusto,  and  the 
Suggestum.  To  San  Marino  is  awarded  an 
elaborate  description  in  which  the  history  and 
government  are  considered.  The  "good-natured 
smile"  that  Macaulay  detected  in  this  account 
is  not  much  in  evidence.  It  is  amusing  to  find 
Addison,  who  now  looked  forward  to  a  diplo- 
matic career,  noting  that  the  pay  of  a  San 
Marino  ambassador  was  Is.  a  day. 

At  Loreto  the  riches  and  defenceless  position 
of  the  Holy  House  struck  him,  and  he  reflected 
that  "if  these  riches  were  all  turned  into  cur- 
rent coin,   and  employed  in  commerce,   they 

reason  for  rejecting  Dr.  Young's  very  positive  testimony, 
that  while  at  Oxford,  Addison  sent  a  play  in  five  acts  to 
Dryden.  That  this  play  was  on  the  subject  of  Cato  seems 
clear  from  the  testimony  of  Tickell.  Tonson's  testimony, 
which  forms  the  basis  of  the  report  that  the  play  was  first 
written  abroad,  really  proves  nothing  of  the  kind.  As  re- 
ported by  Spence,  what  Tonson  said  was:  "Addison  wrote 
the  four  first  acts  of  his  Cato  abroad;  at  least,  they  were 
written,  when  I  met  him,  accidentally  on  his  return,  at 
Rotterdam."  Addison  doubtless  told  Tonson  that  he  had 
worked  on  these  four  acts  while  in  Italy,  but  evidently  said 
nothing  about  what  he  had  previously  written  on  the  same 
subject. 

Finally,  I  can  find  no  evidence  whatever  for  the  latter 
part  of  Courthope's  statement  (Addison,  p.  Ill),  repeated 
from  Macaulay:  "The  design  ...  he  had  formed  while 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  399 

would  make  Italy  the  most  flourishing  country 
in  Europe."  The  Falls  of  Terni  drew  him  out 
of  his  way  and  seemed  more  astonishing  than 
the  water-works  of  Versailles;  surely  this  was 
the  Gulf  through  which  Virgil's  Alecto  shot 
herself  into  hell.  In  crossing  the  Apennines  he 
cared  less  for  "the  rude  prospect  of  rocks  rising 
one  above  another"  than  for  the  warm  valleys 
with  violets  and  almond-trees  in  blossom. 

At  Rome  Addison  remained  only  long  enough 
to  look  at  St.  Peter's  and  the  Pantheon  and 
to  reflect  that  the  cross  figure  is  better  for 
churches  than  the  rotunda,  since  it  gives  a 
greater  variety  of  noble  prospects.  The  de- 
serted appearance  of  the  Campagna  was  im- 
pressive; the  blighting  genius  of  the  Catholic 
faith,  he  thought,  was  responsible  for  the  pau- 
city of  numbers  and  the  lack  of  cultivation  of 
the  soil. 

At  Naples  he  noted  the  processions  of  Holy 

he  was  at  Oxford,  though  he  certainly  borrowed  many  inci- 
dents in  the  play  from  a  tragedy  on  the  same  subject  which 
he  saw  performed  at  Venice."  In  the  opera,  among  the 
books  in  Cato's  library  are  Plutarch  and  Tasso  (p.  392). 
Likewise  Addison  represents  Cato  before  he  commits  suicide 
as  reading  the  Phoedo.  In  this,  however,  he  follows  the 
historical  account  of  Cato  (Plutarch,  Cato  Minor).  In  the 
opera  "Csesar  and  Scipio  are  rivals  for  Cato's  daughter" 
(Macaulay  says:  "Cato,  it  seems,  was  in  love  with  a 
daughter  of  Scipio.  The  lady  had  given  her  heart  to 
Caesar.").  In  Addison's  play  Juba  and  Sempronius  are 
rivals  for  Cato's  daughter  Marcia.  I  have  discovered  no 
further  likeness. 


400  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

Week ;  the  lack  of  defences ;  the  prospects  from 
the  convent  houses ;  the  bay,  with  its  sheltering 
circuit  of  woods  and  mountains;  the  conditions 
which  helped  Spain  to  keep  the  Neapolitans  in 
subjection;  the  neighboring  antiquities  and 
natural  curiosities  (including  Virgil's  tomb,  the 
Grotta  Nuova  di  Posillipo,  the  catacombs,  the 
Grotta  del  Cane,  Vesuvius,  and  the  manner  of 
furnishing  the  city  with  ice) .  Of  Vesuvius  he 
gives  a  remarkably  clear  description.  "  There 
is  nothing  about  Naples,"  he  says,  "nor  in- 
deed in  any  part  of  Italy,  which  deserves  our 
admiration  so  much  as  this  mountain." 

Capri,  as  having  been  the  residence  of  Augus- 
tus and  Tiberius,  claimed  a  visit,  and  enter- 
tained him  with  some  medals  found  there,  and 
"with  many  rude  prospects  of  rocks  and  preci- 
pices, that  rise  in  several  places  half  a  mile  high 
in  perpendicular." 

The  journey  to  Rome  by  sea  in  a  felucca  was 
full  of  literary  associations;  for  here  he  was  fol- 
lowing in  the  tracks  of  Virgil  and  Homer,  and 
noted  every  headland  and  every  scene  described 
by  them.  He  spent  the  early  part  of  August, 
1701,  in  Rome.  In  the  Eternal  City  he  had 
great  self-control.  "There  are  in  Rome,"  he 
calmly  remarks,  "two  sets  of  antiquities,  the 
Christian  and  the  heathen.  The  former,  though 
of  a  fresher  date,  are  so  embroiled  with  fable 
and  legend,  that  one  receives  but  little  satis- 
faction from  searching  into  them.    The  other 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  401 

gives  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  to  such  as  have 
met  with  them  before  in  ancient  authors;  for  a 
man  who  is  in  Rome  can  scarce  see  an  object 
that  does  not  call  to  mind  a  piece  of  a  Latin 
poet  or  historian."  Thus  he  justified  his 
favorite  diversion,  of  tracing  the  remains  of 
antiquity  and  connecting  them  with  his  store 
of  quotations  from  the  poets. 

He  begins  with  the  statues,8  on  which  "the 
workmanship  is  often  the  most  exquisite  of 
anything  in  its  kind";  yet  in  his  discussion  he 
is  almost  wholly  occupied  with  what  the  Roman 
poets  have  said  about  statuary;  he  thinks  they 
copied  the  Greek  statuaries.  Then  come  re- 
marks on  coins,  which  throw  light  on  "  several 
particulars  in  history  and  antiquities";  on  the 
"amazing  vanity  of  ancient  pillars  of  so  many 
kinds  of  marble" ;  on  the  obelisks  and  triumphal 
arches;  and  in  conclusion  a  comment  on  the 
beautiful  and  glorious  scenes  which  so  much  use 
of  marble  has  produced  in  the  Roman  churches. 

Addison  then  groups  together  some  comments 
gleaned  on  visits  to  small  towns  near  Rome  and 
full  of  antiquities  and  classical  associations. 
He  was  not  blind,  however,  to  the  aspects  of 
the  landscape,  and  noted  the  contrast  between 

8  Writing  probably  to  Wortley  Montagu,  August  7,  1701, 
he  remarked:  "I  am  forced,  for  want  of  better  company, 
to  converse  mostly  with  pictures,  statues,  and  medals.  For 
you  must  know  I  deal  very  much  in  ancient  coins,  and  can 
count  out  a  sum  in  sesterces  with  as  much  ease  as  in  pounds 
sterling." 


402  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

the  "green  mountains  and  fruitful  valleys" 
of  the  Pope's  dominions  and  the  "wild  naked 
prospect  of  rocks  and  hills,  worn  on  all  sides 
with  gutters  and  channels,  and  not  a  tree  or 
shrub  to  be  met  with  in  a  vast  circuit  of  several 
miles"  in  the  Great  Duke's  domain. 

In  Siena  there  was  nothing  "so  extraordinary 
as  the  cathedral,  which  a  man  may  view  with 
pleasure  after  he  has  seen  St.  Peter's,  though 
it  is  quite  of  another  make,  and  can  only  be 
looked  upon  as  one  of  the  masterpieces  of  Gothic 
architecture."9  Yet  he  "forgot  his  prejudices"10 
only  for  a  moment. 

When  a  man  sees  the  prodigious  pains  and  expense 
that  our  forefathers  have  been  at  in  these  barbarous 
buildings,  one  cannot  but  fancy  to  himself  what 
miracles  of  architecture  they  would  have  left  us,  had 
they  been  only  instructed  in  the  right  way;  for  when 
the  devotion  of  those  ages  was  much  warmer  than 
that  of  the  present,  and  the  riches  of  the  people 
much  more  at  the  disposal  of  the  priests,  there  was 
so  much  money  consumed  on  these  Gothic  cathe- 
drals, as  would  have  finished  a  greater  variety  of 
noble  buildings  than  have  been  raised  either  before 
or  since  that  time.11 


9  Horace  Walpole  disagreed:  Letters,  ed.  Mrs.  Toynbee, 
i,  53. 

10  To  use  the  words  of  Macaulay. 

11  With  this  should  be  compared  his  remarks  on  the  Cathe- 
dral of  Berne:  "The  cathedral  church  stands  on  one  side  of 
these  walks,  and  is,  perhaps,  the  most  magnificent  of  any 
Protestant  church  in  Europe  out  of  England.  It  is  a  very 
bold  work,  and  a  master-piece  in  Gothic  architecture." 
P.  518. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  403 

This  is  a  typical  utterance  of  the  time,  which 
had  not  yet  awakened  to  a  realization  of  the 
fact  that  these  were  "  false  beauties"  only  to  a 
narrow  and  antiquated  standard.  In  the  next 
paragraph  he  says  of  "the  many  gross  and 
absurd  traditions  of  St.  Catherine  of  Sienna": 
"I  think  there  is  as  much  pleasure  in  hearing  a 
man  tell  his  dreams,  as  in  reading  accounts  of 
this  nature." 

In  speaking  of  the  modern  city  of  Leghorn, 
after  pronouncing  the  two  ports,  the  bagnio, 
and  Donatelli's  statue  of  the  Great  Duke  to  be 
"very  noble  sights,"  he  gives  some  attention  to 
the  advantages  of  the  free  port  to  the  Great 
Duke  and  to  his  effort  to  prevent  the  Pope  from 
deriving  a  similar  revenue  from  Civita  Vecchia. 
In  Pisa,  the  group  of  buildings  which  some  have 
thought  the  finest  group  in  the  world  are  merely 
pronounced  "very  well  worth  seeing";  and  he 
passes  on  at  once  to  tell  about  a  late  quarrel 
between  the  people  of  Lucca  and  the  Duke  of 
Florence. 

In  Florence  he  saw  his  eighth  Italian  opera. 
"The  Duke's  new  palace  is  a  very  noble  pile 
.  .  .  extremely  solid  and  majestic."  In 
the  gallery  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio  he  found  the 
sculptures12    most    interesting,    especially    the 

12  Macaulay  says  Addison  preferred  the  sculptures  in  the 
Museum  "even  to  those  of  the  Vatican."  What  Addison 
wrote  was,  "Florence,  for  modern  sculptures,  I  think  excels 
even  Rome." 


404  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

busts  of  the  emperors.  The  Venus  de'  Medici, 
then  in  the  Palazzo  Vecchio  (now  in  the  Uffizi, 
room  25)  was  impressive.  "The  softness  of 
the  flesh,  the  delicacy  of  the  shape,  air,  and 
posture,  and  the  correctness  of  design  in  this 
statue,  are  inexpressible." 

Bologna  was  "esteemed  the  third  in  Italy 
for  pictures  as  having  been  the  school  of  the 
Lombard  painters";  yet  he  mentions  only  one 
of  these,  as  the  second  of  three  rarities  that 
impress  him:  a  medal  of  the  younger  Brutus, 
Raphael's  St.  Cecilia  (painted  for  the  Benti- 
voglio  Chapel  at  S.  Giovanni  Monte,  now  in  the 
Accademia delle Belle  Arti,  No.  152),13and  a  new 
staircase  especially  easy  of  ascent  and  inter- 
esting for  the  disposition  of  lights. 

At  Parma  the  Teatro  Farnese  and  the  picture 
gallery  deserved  "to  be  seen  as  well  as  anything 
of  that  nature  in  Italy";  but  he  mentions  no 
individual  pictures.  Modena  and  Parma  illus- 
trated the  advantages  and  hardships  of  small 
principalities. 

On  the  road  from  Turin  to  Geneva,  amid  the 
Alpine  snows,  he  composed  his  Letter  from  Italy, 
in  which,  in  smooth  and  pleasing  verse,  he  epit- 
omizes his  impressions  of  a  year's  stay  in  Italy. 
And  what  does  he  remember?  That  every 
mountain  and  stream  were  there  in  classic 
times;  that  the  Tiber, 

13  This  also  thrilled  Goethe.  See  his  Ital.  Reise,  Oct.  18, 
1786. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  %  405 

sung  so  often  in  poetic  lays, 
With  scorn  the  Danube  and  the  Nile  surveys; 

that  the  proud  triumphal  arches  of  the  old 
Romans  upbraid  "a  base,  degenerate  progeny"; 
that  his  Muse  would  fain  describe  the  beauties  of 
Raphael;  that  the  blessings  of  blooming  moun- 
tains and  sunny  shores  are  naught  compared 
with  Liberty,  whom  Britannia  adores;  and  that 
while  others  may  build  domes  and  paint  di- 
vinely and  teach  the  rocks  to  live  in  statues, 

'Tie  Britain's  care  to  watch  o'er  Europe's  fate, 
And  hold  in  balance  each  contending  state. 

Here  speaks  the  young  diplomatist  and  states- 
man. This  point  of  view  must  be  borne  in 
mind  throughout  the  reading  of  Addison's  vol- 
ume; it  explains  and  accounts  for  much  that  he 
says — and  does  not  say.  A  young  man  of  twen- 
ty-nine, trained  in  the  Latin  classics  and  taught 
that  these  were  the  only  literature  worth  while, 
whose  attention  had  been  lately  turned  to  the 
problems  of  statecraft  and  diplomacy  by  the 
career  which  Montagu,  attracted  by  his  Latin 
metres  on  the  Treaty  of  Ryswick,  had  planned 
for  him,  visits  tht  land  where  his  favorite  au- 
thors lived  and  wrote.  What  more  natural 
than  that  he  should  indulge  his  antiquarian 
and  political  interests?  Naturally,  his  tour  is 
to  some  extent  the  sentimental  journey  of  an 
antiquarian  with  a  bundle  of  classic  quotations 
which  he  desires  to  verify  and  utilize   in   his 


406  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

Travels.  The  number  and  extent  of  these 
quotations,  however,  has  been  exaggerated.14 
Into  a  work  of  183  pages  (Bohn  ed.)  he  works 
141  quotations,  aggregating  651  lines,  from  the 
following  authors: 

Silius  Italicus,  27;  Virgil,  24;  Claudian,  14;  Lucan, 
14;  Juvenal,  13;  Martial,  12;  Horace,  10;  Ovid,  6; 
Statius,  4 ;  Ausonius,  3 ;  Sannazaro,  3  ;15  Homer,  Greek, 
1,  English  1;  Propertius,  2;  Greek  epigrammatists,  2; 
Tibullus,  1;  Phaedrus,  1;  Manilius,  1;  Seneca,  1; 
Unknown,  1. 

In  length  these  quotations  range  from  a  part 
of  a  line  to  35  lines;  the  average,  if  we  count 
parts  of  lines  as  wholes,  is  4.6  lines.  The  average 
number  of  quotations  per  page  is  considerably 
less  than  one,  and  they  are  so  skilfully  handled 
in  general  that  we  are  only  now  and  then  con- 
scious that  Addison  is  speaking  of  some  scene 
or  antiquity  for  the  sake  of  leading  up  to  a 
passage  he  has  ready  to  quote.  But  that  he 
traveled  in  the  poets  rather  than  in  the  country 

14  Thus  Walpole,  writing  to  West  from  Florence  in  1740 
(Letters,  ed.  Mrs.  Toynbee,  i,  88),  says:  "Mr.  Addison  travel- 
led through  the  poets,  and  not  through  Italy."  Fielding 
(Works,  1821,  x,  188)  speaks  of  Addison  as  "a  commentator 
on  the  classics  rather  than  as  a  writer  of  travels."  Sterne 
(Tristram  Shandy,  1765,  vii,  11)  says  that  Addison  wrote 
"galloping,  with  his  satchel  of  school  books  .  .  .  galling 
his  beast's  crupper  at  every  stroke."  (Quoted  in  Johnson's 
Lives,  ed.  Hill,  ii,  87,  n.  1.)  As  Addison  spent  twelve  months 
on  Italian  soil,  he  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  galloped 
through  it. 

15  His  epigram  on  Venice  is  also  referred  to  (p.  396). 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  407 

itself,  in  any  sense,  is  distinctly  untrue.  It  is 
also  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  it  was  still  fashion- 
able to  make  plentiful  use  of  classical  quota- 
tions in  all  polite  literature,  and  nowhere  more 
so  than  in  books  of  travel.  Sandys'  Travels 
(London,  1610,  7th  ed.  1673)  is  full  of  them. 
Addison  was  writing  what  he  expected  would 
be  read,  and  obviously  sought  to  please  the 
taste  of  his  readers. 

Within  certain  limits  the  list  of  quotations 
gives  some  idea  of  the  character  and  extent  of 
Addison's  reading.  No  prose  writers  are  in- 
cluded,16 and  some  of  the  greater  poets  (Lucre- 
tius, Catullus)  and  lesser  writers  like  Petronius 
are  likewise  absent.  Greek  writers,  not  having 
written  much  on  Italy,  are  almost  entirely  left 
out.  But  the  severest  criticism,  well  expressed 
by  Macaulay,  is  that  Addison  almost  entirely 
ignores  the  modern  poets  (the  single  exception 
among  authors  quoted  being  Sannazaro).  Yet 
it  can  be  shown  that  Addison  is  not  more 
chargeable  with  this  indifference  than  many 
others  of  his  time,  especially  in  academic  circles. 
The  modern  authors  were,  if  taken  up  at  all, 
to  be  read,  not  studied;  and  if  one  did  not  care 
to  become  familiar  with  these  writers,  ignorance 
of  them  carried  with  it  no  stigma. 

Addison  is  an  uncompromising  Protestant. 
He  sees  nothing  good  in  the  Roman  Church.17 

16  He  refers,  however,  to  Pliny  and  Caesar. 

17  See  pp.  368f.,  419ff.,  424,  524f. 


408  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

Its  miracles  are  open  to  suspicion;18  its  treatment 
of  the  people  is  responsible  for  much  of  the  hard- 
ship and  poverty  that  are  too  frequently  found. 
The  ignorance  of  the  clergy  is  profound.19  It 
will  be  seen  that  when  the  occasion  demands 
Addison  does  not  hesitate  to  speak  frankly.  It 
must  be  remembered,  of  course,  that  Addison 
went  through  no  such  crises  as  that  which  con- 
fronted Dryden  in  1688;  how  he  would  have 
acted  under  similar  circumstances  we  do  not 
know.  In  general  it  may  be  said  that  his  criti- 
cism is  calm  and  dignified  and  gives  the  im- 
pression of  expressing  real  convictions.20 

One  cannot  fail  to  notice  how  deeply  Addison 
is  interested  in  politics.  He  recurs  to  political 
situations  and  lessons  again  and  again.21  I  can- 
not help  thinking  that  the  latter  part  of  the 
book,  dealing  with  Germany  and  Switzerland,  is 
more  interesting  than  the  rest,  perhaps  for  the 
reason  that  Addison,  no  longer  obliged  to  be  on 
the  lookout  for  antiquities  and  scenes  described 
by  the  poets,  here  gives  more  attention  to  politi- 
cal and  social  matters.  He  is  always  a  Whig, 
devoted  to  the  principles  of  the  Revolution ;  yet 
he  is  no  narrow  partisan,  but  is  bent  on  extract- 
ing political  wisdom  from  all  possible  sources. 

18  See  pp.  365,  379,  400,  409,  453. 

10  See  pp.  400,  525. 

''"  On  the  political  aspect  of  his  Protestantism,  cf.  The 
Freeholder,  No.  54,  June  25,  1716. 

21  See  pp.  390f.,  428,  490,  504,  516,  525ft\,  and  the  Letter 
from  Italy. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  409 

For  example,  in  the  present  struggle  with  prob- 
lems of  excessive  private  wealth  it  is  interesting 
to  notice  Addison  commenting  on  the  Swiss  cus- 
tom of  dividing  estates  equally  among  all  the 
children,22  and  the  necessity  of  this  custom  in  a 
small  republic  in  order  to  prevent  any  citizen 
from  becoming  formidable  to  his  fellows.  He 
illustrates,  too,  a  growing  confidence  in  the  wis- 
dom of  the  people: 

One  may  generally  observe,  that  the  body  of  a 
people  has  juster  views  for  the  public  good,  and 
pursues  them  with  greater  uprightness,  than  the  no- 
bility and  gentry,  who  have  so  many  private  expec- 
tations and  particular  interests,  which  hang  like  a 
false  bias  upon  their  judgments,  and  may  possibly 
dispose  them  to  sacrifice  the  good  of  their  country 
to  the  advancement  of  their  own  fortunes;  whereas, 
the  gross  of  the  people  can  have  no  other  prospect  in 
changes  and  revolutions,  than  of  public  blessings 
that  are  to  diffuse  themselves  through  the  whole 
state  in  general.23 

He  has  comparatively  little  to  say  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  people.24  The  contrast  between 
French  and  Italians  (pp.  373-5)  has  already 
been  noted;  besides  he  makes  several  interest- 
ing comments  on  customs,  dress,  superstitions, 
etc.  Otherwise  what  he  says  about  the  people 
themselves  is  not  especially  significant.  It  is 
probable  that  such  observations  as  he  may  have 
been  moved  to  make   he   found   in   previous 

22  P.  529. 

23  P.  375. 

24  See  pp.  361,  373ff.,  391,  406,  455,  522f.,  526ff. 


410  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

"voyage-writers,"  especially  Bishop  Burnet, 
Lassals,  Ray,  and  Misson,  whom  he  mentions 
in  his  preface. 

Addison's  descriptions  of  scenery  deserve  at- 
tention. We  do  not  think  of  him  as  a  lover  of 
Nature;  a  "feeling"  for  natural  scenery  was 
certainly  not  characteristic  of  the  age.  Yet 
he  is  constantly  attentive  to  agreeable  land- 
scapes,25 and  he  is  frequently  delighted  with  the 
vistas  opened  to  him.  "There  is  nothing  in  the 
natural  face  of  Italy,"  he  remarks,  "that  is 
more  delightful  to  a  traveler,  than  the  several 
lakes  which  are  dispersed  up  and  down  the  many 
breaks  and  hollows  of  the  Alps  and  Apennines." 
He  never  describes  landscape,  however,  at  any 
length.  He  felt,  apparently,  that  his  descrip- 
tive powers  were  limited ;  probably,  too,  he  was 
more  deeply  concerned  with  other  matters. 
Following  the  sentence  above  quoted,  for  exam- 
ple, he  goes  on  to  explain  the  geological  history 
of  these  lakes,  and  then  remarks  that  "the 
ancient  Romans  took  a  great  deal  of  pains  to 
hew  out  a  passage  for  these  lakes  to  discharge 
themselves  into  some  neighbouring  river,  for 
the  bettering  of  the  air,  or  the  recovering  of  the 
soil  that  lay  underneath  them."26  A  similar 
interest  is  shown  by  the  following  sentence: 
"The  greatest  pleasure  I  took  in  my  journey 

26  See  for  example,  pp.  378,  385ff.,  413f.,  427,  438,  444ff., 
483ff.,  488,  507,  509,  517,  537. 
"  Pp.  507f. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  411 

from  Rome  to  Naples  was  in  seeing  the  fields, 
towns,  and  rivers,  that  have  been  described 
by  so  many  classic  authors,  and  have  been  the 
scenes  of  so  many  great  actions;  for  this  whole 
road  is  extremely  barren  of  curiosities."27  The 
Alps  do  not  move  him  to  admiration;  atRipaille, 
however,  "y°u  have  a  near  prospect  of  the 
Alps,  which  are  broken  into  so  many  steps  and 
precipices,  that  they  fill  the  mind  with  an  agree- 
able kind  of  horror,  and  form  one  of  the  most 
irregular,  misshapen  scenes  in  the  world."28 
He  is  thankful  for  an  easy  journey  over  Mont 
Cenis.  "On  the  top  of  this  high  mountain," 
he  observes,29  "is  a  large  plain,  and  in  the  midst 
of  the  plain  a  beautiful  lake,  which  would  be 
very  extraordinary  were  there  not  several 
mountains  in  the  neighborhood  rising  over  it." 
The  Rhone  "has  been  guided  by  the  particular 
hand  of  Providence";30  not,  however,  because 
of  any  striking  views  that  its  peculiar  route 
affords,  but  because  "had  such  a  river  as  this 
been  left  to  itself  to  have  found  its  way  out  from 
among  the  Alps,  whatever  winding  it  had  made 
it  must  have  formed  several  little  seas,  and  have 
laid  many  countries  under  water,  before  it  had 
come  to  the  end  of  its  course."  The  journey 
across  the  Apennines  was  merely  fatiguing;31 

27  P.  421. 

28  Pp.  510f . 

29  P.  507. 

80  P.  515. 

81  P.  414. 


412  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

the  "rude  prospect  of  rocks  rising  one  above  an- 
other," etc.,  needed  the  relief  of  "warm  valleys 
covered  with  violets  and  almond-trees  in  blos- 
som. ' '  From  a  distance,  however,  the  mountains 
are  good  to  look  upon.  One  of  the  most  interest- 
ing descriptions  in  the  book  is  that  in  which  he 
describes  the  hour's  rowing  from  Kufstein  to 
the  borders  of  Bavaria: 

It  was  the  pleasantest  voyage  in  the  world  to 
follow  the  windings  of  this  river  Inn  through  such  a 
variety  of  pleasing  scenes  as  the  course  of  it  natur- 
ally led  us.  We  had  sometimes  on  each  side  us  a 
vast  extent  of  naked  rocks  and  mountains,  broken 
into  a  thousand  irregular  steeps  and  precipices;  in 
other  places  we  saw  a  long  forest  of  fir-trees  so  thick 
set  together,  that  it  was  impossible  to  discover  any 
of  the  soil  they  grew  upon,  and  rising  up  so  regu- 
larly one  above  another,  as  to  give  us  the  view  of  a 
whole  wood  at  once.  The  time  of  the  year,  that  had 
given  the  leaves  of  the  trees  so  many  different  colours, 
completed  the  beauty  of  the  prospect.32 

In  general,  however,  the  Alps  and  the  Apen- 
nines alike  were  regions  to  be  endured  and  gone 
through  as  rapidly  as  possible ;  nay,  to  be  avoided 
when  possible,  as  when  Addison  went  via  Mar- 
seilles to  Genoa  by  sea.  There  was  nothing 
sublime  in  the  Alpine  views  of  landscape  or 
clouds ;  all  was  awful,  horrible,  as  it  had  seemed 
to  Silius  Italicus  in  the  first  century  A.D.33 
Yet  it  has  not,  I  think,  been  sufficiently  empha- 

12  P.  537. 
83  P.  508. 


\ 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  413 

sized  that  even  thus  early  in  the  eighteenth 
century  men  were  beginning  to  fancy  Nature 
that  was  less  guided  and  pruned  by  the  hand  of 
man.34  The  Alps  were  beginning  to  have  "an 
agreeable  kind  of  horror."  Of  course  Nature 
was  capable  of  being  improved  by  the  hand 
of  man;  we  still  believe  this  though  to  a  less 
extent. 

III. 

When  Addison  started  on  his  travels  he  was 
twenty-seven  years  old.  When  Gray  entered 
France  with  Walpole,  on  March  29,  1739,  he 
was  nearly  five  years  younger.  In  Gray's 
letters  we  have  a  much  fuller  account  of  his 
impressions  of  France  than  Addison  has  left 
us  of  his.  The  route  to  Paris  lay  through 
Boulogne,  Montreuil,  Abbeville,  Amiens  (where, 
at  the  abbey  of  St.  Denis,  he  admired  a  huge 
onyx  vase,  five  inches  by  three  and  very  thick, 
representing  the  mysteries  of  Bacchus),  and 
Clermont.  Paris  delighted  him.  "The  view 
down  [the  Seine]  on  either  hand  from  the 
Pont  Neuf  is  the  charming'st  sight  imaginable."35 
Concerning  Versailles  he  was  less  enthusiastic 
than  was  Addison.    The  front   was  "a   huge 

34  Cf.  The  Spectator,  No.  414,  June  25,  1712,  quoted  also 
by  Miss  Reynolds,  pp.  252f . ;  also  No.  477,  Sept.  6,  1712.  Cf . 
also  Blomfield  and  Thomas,  The  Formal  Garden  in  England, 
p.  80,  also  quoted  by  Miss  Reynolds. 

35  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  23. 


414  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

heap  of  littleness";86  one  " could  not  see  a 
more  disagreeable  tout-ensemble."  At  Rheims, 
where  they  stayed  three  months,  the  chief  thing 
was  the  cathedral,  "a  vast  Gothic  building  of 
a  surprising  beauty  and  lightness,  all  covered 
over  with  a  profusion  of  little  statues,  and  other 
ornaments."37  Gray  liked  Dijon  better  than 
Rheims.  The  environs  of  Lyons  were  "beautiful 
beyond  expression."  His  description  of  the 
ascent  to  the  Grande  Chartreuse  is  so  signifi- 
cant that,  though  it  is  not  unknown,  I  must 
quote  it  again  here: 

It  is  six  miles  to  the  top;  the  road  runs  winding 
up  it,  commonly  not  six  feet  broad;  on  one  hand  is 
the  rock,  with  woods  of  pine-trees  [rather,  says 
Mitford,  beeches  and  firs]  hanging  over  head;  on  the 
other,  a  monstrous  precipice,  almost  perpendicular, 
at  the  bottom  of  which  rolls  a  torrent,  that  sometimes 
tumbling  among  the  fragments  of  stone  that  have 
fallen  from  on  high,  and  sometimes  precipitating 
itself  down  vast  descents  with  a  noise  like  thunder, 
which  is  still  made  greater  by  the  echo  from  the 
mountains  on  each  side,  concurs  to  form  one  of  the 
most  solemn,  the  most  romantic,  and  the  most  as- 
tonishing scenes  I  ever  beheld :  Add  to  this  the  strange 
views  made  by  the  craggs  and  cliffs  on  the  other  hand; 
the  cascades  that  in  many  places  throw  themselves 
from  the  very  summit  down  into  the  vale,  and  the 
river  below;  and  many  other  particulars  impossible 


36  Id.,  p.  26. 

37  Id.,  p.  30.  In  his  Journal  (Works,  ed.  Gosse,  i,  237)  he 
speaks  of  its  "beautiful  Gothic  front  with  two  towers  of 
surprising  lightness." 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  415 

to  describe;  you  will  conclude  we  had  no  occasion  to 
repent  our  pains.38 

Throughout  his  travels  in  France,  as  his 
notes  show,  Gray  referred  constantly  to  Csesar's 
Commentaries,  and  had  in  mind  the  history  of 
the  country.  Early  in  November  the  party 
crossed  the  Alps  over  Mont  Cenis.  "The  im- 
mensity of  the  precipices,"  he  writes  to  his 
mother,  "the  roaring  of  the  river  and  torrents 
that  run  into  it,  the  huge  craggs  covered  with 
ice  and  snow,  and  the  clouds  below  you  and 
about  you,  are  objects  it  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive without  seeing  them."39 

On  the  journey  he  read  Silius  Italicus  and 
reread  Livy.  At  Turin  he  was  bored;  the  pup- 
pet-show of  the  Damned  Soul40  did  not  offer 
much  diversion.  He  writes  West  a  noble 
description  of  the  harbor  of  Genoa: 

Only  figure  to  yourself  a  vast  semicircular  basin, 
full  of  fine  blue  sea,  and  vessels  of  all  sorts  and  sizes, 

a8  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  38f . ;  see  also  pp.  44ff.,  and  Gray's 
Works,  ed.  Gosse,  i,  244;  also  H.  Walpole,  Letters,  ed.  Mrs. 
Toynbee,  i,  38. 

39  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  42f.  Walpole,  it  is  interesting 
to  note,  got  a  very  different  impression  of  the  journey. 
"Such  uncouth  rocks  and  such  uncomely  inhabitants,  my 
dear  West,  I  hope  I  shall  never  see  them  again."  Quoted  by 
Tovey,  p.  55. 

40  Described  at  length  by  Joseph  Spence  in  a  letter 
to  his  mother  dated  Dec.  2,  1739,  exactly  a  fortnight  after 
Gray's  party  had  left  Turin.  See  Spence's  Anecdotes, 
Observations  and  Characters,  of  Books  and  Men,  London, 
1820,  pp.  397-400. 


416  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

some  sailing  out,  some  coming  in,  and  others  at 
anchor;  and  all  around  it  palaces,  and  churches 
peeping  over  one  another's  heads,  gardens,  and  mar- 
ble terraces  full  of  orange  and  cypress  trees,  fountains, 
and  trellis-works  covered  with  vines,  which  altogether 
compose  the  grandest  of  theatres.41 

He  fell  in  love  with  the  Mediterranean.  By 
way  of  Parma  and  Modena  (where  he  viewed  the 
Duke's  paintings),  he  proceeded  in  December  to 
Bologna,  where  he  spent  twelve  days.  He  was 
more  deeply  struck  than  Addison  by  the  beauty 
of  the  Lombard  landscape.  In  crossing  the 
Apennines  Gray  again  shows  how  differently 
he  and  Addison  viewed  the  mountains.  "This 
vast  chain  of  hills  [the  Apennines], "  he  says, 
"has  its  beauties";  the  mountains  "are  not 
so  horrid  as  the  Alps,  though  pretty  near  as 
high."42 

In  Florence,  Gray's  party  spent  about  three 
months.  Of  his  notes,  only  those  relating  to 
the  Pitti  Palace  have  been  printed.  He  describes 
the  architecture  of  the  palace.  Hercules  Lifting 
Antceus,  which  Addison  mentions,43  seemed  to 
Gray  "of  indifferent  workmanship."  The 
pictures  he  liked  best  were  Salvator  Rosa's 
marines44    ("admirable");    Parmigiano's    Ma- 

41  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  46. 

42  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  49. 

43  P.  495. 

44  Sala  di  Venere,  Nos.  4  and  15.  One  is  reproduced  in 
The  New  Internal.  Encyclopaedia,  xv,  opp.  1G4. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  417 

donna  del  Collo  Lungo45  ("  the  Virgin  is  not  hand- 
some, but  a  most  majestick  Air,  the  head  & 
dressing  of  the  hair  in  exquisite  Taste");  Ra- 
phael's Madonna  del  Peseta46  and  Leo  X47  ("as 
fine  as  a  Portrait  can  possibly  be,  &  excellently 
preserved!");  Fra  Bartolommeo's  St.  Mark4* 
("a  most  noble  Style,  Drapery  in  marvellous 
folds,  vastly  great!");  Carlo  Maratti's  St. 
Andrea  Corsini  Praying  ("  finely  colour'd  with 
great  Warmth  and  Harmony");  Van  Dyck's 
Cardinal  Bentivoglio49  ("easy  and  natural,  yet 
perfectly  great;  the  Colouring  fine  beyond  all 
expression");  Titian's  Cardinal  Ippolito  de 
Medici,50  which  Kugler  pronounces  "amongst 
the  finest  of  his  portraits"  ("very  genteel"); 
Titian's  Concert51  ("the  head  of  the  principal 
[figure]  has  a  most  exquisite  life  &  spirit  in  the 
eyes,  &  is  admirably  painted").     Andrea  del 

45  Sala  delP  Iliade,  over  the  door. 

46  This  must  have  been  a  copy,  as  the  original  is  in  the 
Prado,  at  Madrid,  having  been  sent  there  in  1638. 

47  Sala  di  Apollo,  No.  40.  Reproduced  in  H.  Strachey, 
Raphael,  London,  1900,  p.  20;  Julia  Cartwright,  Raphael  in 
Rome,  London,  1895,  p.  71.    Cf.  G.  Allen,  Florence,  ii,  131f. 

"  Sala  di  Giove,  No.  125.    Cf.  G.  Allen,  Florence,  ii,122f. 
49  Sala  di  Marte,  No.  82.   Reproduced  in  L.  Cust,  Anthony 
Van  DycJc,  London,  1900,  p.  36. 

60  Sala  dell'  Iliade,  No.  201.  Reproduced  in  Claude 
Phillips,  The  Later  Work  of  Titian,  London,  1898,  p.  19. 

61  Sala  dell'  Iliade,  No.  185;  formerly  attributed  to  Gior- 
gione.  Reproduced  in  Claude  Phillips,  The  Earlier  Work 
of  Titian,  London,  1897,  p.  63.    Cf .  G.  Allen,  Florence,  ii,  115. 


418  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

Sarto's  La  Disputa52  he  greatly  disliked  ("  finely 
painted  undoubtedly,  &  perhaps  the  principal 
work  of  this  Master.  From  whence  he  got  his 
great  Reputation  I  know  not,  Grace  &  Beauty 
'tis  certain  he  was  an  utter  Stranger  to;  Har- 
mony in  the  Tout-Ensemble  he  was  ignorant 
of;  his  Subjects  are  always  ill-chosen,  &  if  he 
colour'd  a  particular  figure  well,  this  is  by  no 
means  sufficient  to  put  him  on  a  rank  with  the 
greatest  Masters.  Tho'  even  in  this  he  often 
fails,  &  there  is  a  smeariness  in  his  shades  that 
makes  all  his  figures  appear  dirty. ") .  The  same 
painter's  Assumption  of  the  Virgin™  he  thought 
had  "no  harmony."  In  this  depreciation  of 
Del  Sarto,  Gray  is  of  course  radically  at  variance 
with  modern  critics. 

On  the  journey  to  Rome  Gray  and  Walpole 
spent  a  day  at  Siena,  the  cathedral  of  which  he 
described  to  his  mother  as  "a  huge  pile  of  mar- 
ble, black  and  white  laid  alternately,  and 
laboured  with  a  Gothic  niceness  and  delicacy  in 
the  old-fashioned  way."  At  Viterbo  he  noted 
that  the  houses  had  glass  windows,  "which  is 
not  very  usual  here.' 


62  Sala  di  Saturno,  No.  172.  Reproduced  in  H.  Wolfflin, 
The  Art  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  tr.  Armstrong,  London, 
1903,  p.  172,  and  in  Miss  H.  Guinness,  Andrea  del  Sarto, 
London,  1899,  p.  23.  Miss  Guinness  speaks  of  it  as  "a  noble 
composition,  full  of  power  and  boldness,  and  of  harmonious 
vaporous  atmosphere."    Cf.  G.  Allen,  Florence,  ii,  117. 

"  Sala  dell'  Iliade,  No.  225.    Cf.  G.  Allen,  Florence,  ii,  111. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  419 

The  first  entrance  of  Rome  [he  continues54]  is 
prodigiously  striking.  It  is  by  a  noble  gate,55  de- 
signed by  Michael  Angelo,  and  adorned  with  statues; 
this  brings  you  into  a  large  square,  in  the  midst  of 
which  is  a  vast  obelisk  of  granite,  and  in  front  you 
have  at  one  view  two  churches  of  a  handsome  archi- 
tecture, and  so  much  alike  that  they  are  called  the 
twins;  with  three  streets,  the  middlemost  of  which 
is  one  of  the  longest  in  Rome.  As  high  as  my  expec- 
tation was  raised,  I  confess,  the  magnificence  of  this 
city  infinitely  surpasses  it.  You  cannot  pass  along 
a  street  but  you  have  views  of  some  palace,  or  church, 
or  square,  or  fountain,  the  most  picturesque  and  noble 
one  can  imagine. 

Gray  spent  two  months  and  a  half  in  Rome 
and  made  full  notes  on  the  sculptures  and 
paintings  he  saw.  I  shall  quote  a  few  of  his 
more  significant  criticisms. 

Barocci.  The  Presentation  of  the  Virgin: 
"Some  incorrectness  in  the  drawing,  but  a 
harmony  and  sweetness  in  the  tout-ensemble 
that  makes  ample  amends.  The  finest  I  have 
seen  of  him."56 

\  Annibale  Carracci.  The  Temptation  of  St. 
Anthony  has  an  " exquisite"  landscape;  "the 
whole  admirably  painted,  and  finished  to  the 
height."57  The  figure  of  St.  Gregory  is  "exqui- 
sitely fine' ' ; ' '  every  minute  circumstance  finished 

64  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  60. 
"  The  Porto  del  Popolo. 

66  Works,  ed.  Mitford,  iv,  271.    Then  in  the  Chiesa  Nuova. 
87  Id.,  p.  233.     The  painting,  then  in  the  Palazzo  Bor- 
ghese,  is  now  in  the  National  Gallery,  London. 


420  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

as  high  as  possible."68  The  Pietd  that  he  sees 
is  "finely  painted,  but  not  very  pleasing"; 
"the  Magdalen  is  a  fine  figure,  but  without 
expression,"  and  the  other  figures  lack  dignity.59 
The  Noli  Me  Tangere  is  "exceeding  fine."60 
In  Peter  Going  from  Rome  Christ's  eyes  and  head 
convey  "as  moving  an  idea  as  it  is  possible  for 
painting  to  express."61  In  The  Assumption  "the 
Draperies  and  colouring  good;  both  the  expres- 
sion and  the  drawing  in  the  main  indifferent 
enough;  but  the  scene  which  is  properly  the 
subject  of  the  picture  is  nature  finely  chosen, 
and  an  example  of  taste  in  this  k^nd."62 

Pietro  da  Cortona  (Berrettini).  The  Battle 
of  Arbela:  "Many  noble  combinations  and  acci- 
dents of  men  and  horses.  .  .  The  tout 
ensemble  harmonious  enough.  A  most  capital 
picture.63  St.  Paul  Restored  to  Sight: ' '  The  whole 
very  fine,  well  and  strongly  coloured."64  II 
Triomfo  delta  Gloria:  "  An  immense  composition 
in  the  allegorical  way,  strongly  and  harmoniously 
coloured.  Admirable  groups,  fine  airs  and 
heads,  and  well  chosen  ornaments .  .  .  But  I 
confess  myself  of  the  French  author's  opinion, 

68  Id.,  p.  256.  Then  in  the  Church  of  S.  Gregorio  Magno. 

5a  Id.,  p.  260.  Then  in  the  Church  of  S.  Sebastiano. 

60  Id.,  p.  278.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Barberini. 

61  Id.,  p.  297.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Doria  Pamphili. 

^  Id.,  p.  292.  In  the  Palazzo  Doria  Pamphili,  No.  78. 

63  Id.,  p.  240.  An  early  painting,  then  at  the  Palazzo 
Sacchetti. 

64  Id.,  p.  242.  In  the  Church  of  the  Cappuccini. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  421 

who  says,  '  Je  ne  pense  pas  que  les  personnages 
allegoriques  doivre  [sic]  etre  eux-memes  des 
acteurs  principaux  des  personnages,  que  nous 
connoissons  pour  des  phantomes  [sic]  imagines 
a  plaisir,  a  qui  nous  ne  scaurions  preter  des 
passions  pareilles  aux  notres,  ne  peuvent  pas 
nous  interesser  beaucoup  a  ce  qui  leur  arrive.'  "65 
Domenichino  (Zampieri).  Diana  with  Her 
Nymphs  he  does  not  like:  "the  attitudes  for 
the  most  part  without  grace,  and  the  whole  not 
agreeable."66  Of  The  Assumption  in  the  Church 
of  Santa  Maria  in  Trastevere,  he  says:  " Noth- 
ing can  be  more  lovely,  or  graceful ;  strongly  and 
well-coloured,  and  as  well-preserved."67  The 
Matthew  and  John  in  the  Church  of  St.  Andrea 
della  Valle  are  "as  fine  and  sublime  as  possible, 
of  a  vast  size,  though  seen  at  a  vast  height ;  the 
colouring  bright  but  harmonious  .  .  .  and  the 
drapery  great  and  natural."68  In  The  Scourging 
of  St.  Andrew  he  comments  on  the  comic  ele- 
ment: 

One  of  the  ruffians,  in  straining  the  cord  that  ties 
his  leg,  has  cracked  it,  and  is  fallen  backwards;  others 
are  laughing  at  him :  the  expression,  though  low,  has 
somewhat  in  it  that  heightens  the  horror  of  the  thing. 
These  are  a  sort  of  circumstances  that  Shakespeare 
has  often  made  use  of;  one  sees  his  murderers  have 

66  Id.,  p.  273;  the  French  author  quoted  is  Dubos,  Re- 
flexions critiques  sur  la  poesie  et  la  peinture,  i,  176.  The 
picture  is  in  the  Palazzo  Barberini. 

66  Id.,  p.  232.     In  the  Villa  Borghese,  No.  53. 

87  Id.,  p.  262. 

88  Id.,  p.  266. 


422  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

their  jokes  in  the  midst  of  the  most  tragic  events; 
and  when  rightly  taken,  such  strokes  are  surely  ex- 
pressive of  the  character,  and  of  the  want  of  reflex- 
ion, that  is  the  cause  of  insensibility  to  others'  woes: 
yet  I  do  not  say,  these  things  should  be  used  at  ran- 
dom, nor  made  (as  here)  the  principal  objects  in  a 
picture.69 

Guercino  (Barbieri).  Dido  on  the  Funeral 
Pile:  Dido's  "head  is  truly  fine,  full  of  expres- 
sion, and  very  beautiful.  .  .  .  The  figure  of 
Anna  is  ungraceful,  and  means  nothing  but  a 
sort  of  surprise.  Those  behind  are  variously 
affected  by  the  sight,  but  both  their  persons  and 
manners  of  showing  it,  are  low  and  not  proper 
for  such  a  scene."70  Joseph  Revealing  Dreams 
has  a  "dark,  disagreeable  manner."71  In  Cleo- 
patra Prostrate  before  Augustus  "she  is  but  a 
tame  figure,  with  very  little  expression:  but 
the  emperor  a  very  noble  one  ...  as  grace- 
ful as  possible."72  The  Burial  of  St.  Petronilla: 
"The  Christ's  action  is  neither  graceful,  nor 
natural;  the  colouring  in  the  extravagance  of 
his  manner,  the  shades  mere  soot."73  Of 
St.  John  Drinking  at  a  Fountain,  he  says: 
"One  cannot  see  a  more  charming  figure  of 
him;    it    is    alive,  and    admirably  painted."74 

69  Id.,  p.  267.  Also  in  the  Church  of  S.  Andrea  della  Valle. 

70  Id.,  p.  229.  Then  in  the  Spada  Gallery. 

71  Id.,  p.  232.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Borghese. 

72  Id.,  p.  239.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Sacchetti. 

n  Id.,  p.  252.  His  masterpiece;  now  in  the  Gallery  of  the 
Capitol. 

74  Id.,  p.  295.  In  the  Palazzo  Doria  Pamphili,  Gallery  I, 
No.  70. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  423 

Lanfranco.  The  Judgment  of  Solomon:  '  *  Not 
one  good  figure,  or  attitude  in  the  whole,  besides 
the  impropriety  of  making  Solomon  an  old 
man.'  75  Of  The  Angel  and  St.  Peter  in  Prison 
he  remarks : 

I  never  saw  anything  of  this  master  in  oil  that 
pleased  me;  his  colouring  is  disagreeable,  and  the 
shades  very  black:  indeed  in  general,  his  figures  want 
grace  and  expression;  but  in  his  great  fresco  composi- 
tions, there  is  a  certain  greatness,  a  copious  fancy, 
great  harmony  throughout  and  his  draperies  are  the 
noblest  one  can  see  anywhere.  Such  excellences 
(which  are  the  first  one  considers  in  cupolas,  and  such 
vast  works)  are  sufficient  to  compensate  the  afore- 
mentioned defects,  here  that  is  not  the  case ;  and  these 
faults  are  the  first  things  that  strike  one.78 

Nicolas  Poussin.  The  Plague  at  Ashdod: 
"Many  fine  expressions  but  an  ill-chosen  sub- 
ject."77 The  same  is  true  of  The  Martyrdom  of 
St.  Erasmus.78  Of  the  wife  in  Extreme  Unction  he 
says:  "Nothing  can  be  more  noble  than  the 
sweet  and  graceful  attitude  of  this  figure"; 

78  Id.,  p.  232.    Then  in  the  Palazzo  Borghese. 

76  Id.,  p.  293.  The  picture  was  in  the  Palazzo  DoriaPam- 
phili.  The  great  frescoes  referred  to  are  probably  those  in 
S.  Andrea  della  Valle. 

77  Id.,  p.  245.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Colonna.  This  picture 
can  now  be  seen  in  the  Louvre  and  in  the  National  Gallery, 
London  (No.  165).  Which  is  the  original  I  cannot  determine. 

78  Id.,  p.  251.  Then  in  the  Quirinal;  now  in  the  Vatican, 
Room  iv.  Reproduced  in  Elizabeth  H.  Denis,  Nicolas 
Poussin,  London,  1899,  opp.  p.  51. 


424  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

the  whole  is  "  well-coloured,  solemn,  and  har- 
monious."79 Cymon and  Iphigenia:  "not  good."80 

Raphael.  Raphael's  Mistress  "is  no  very 
elegant  beauty,  yet  by  no  means  so  disagreeable 
as  Richardson  would  make  her  .  .  .  much 
finished  and  finely  coloured."81  The  Ritratto  of 
Paul  III  (then  attributed  to  Raphael)  was 
extremely  fine.82  The  Entombment,  which  was 
purchased  by  Paul  V,  he  does  not  mention. 

Of  Guido  Reni's  pictures  he  mentions  a  con- 
siderable number,  generally  with  enthusiasm. 
Fortune,  Flying  is  "a  very  fine  genteel  figure."83 
St.  Michael:  "Indignation,  it  is  true,  does  not 
appear  in  his  countenance,  for  he  is  triumphing 
over  a  vanquished  and  confounded  enemy, 
but  rather  a  noble  scorn,  and  somewhat  as 
Milton  says, — Severe  in  youthful  beauty;  but 
so  angelical  a  beauty,  such  a  head,  as  this  master 

79  Id.,  pp.  291f.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Doria  Pamphili. 
The  original  picture  is  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Duke 
of  Rutland,  at  Belvoir  Castle.  It  is  reproduced  in  Eliza- 
beth H.  Denis,  op.  cit.,  opp.  p.  97;  cf.  pp.  104f. 

80  Id.,  p.  245.     In  the  Palazzo  Colonna,  Gallery  n,  No.  31. 

81  Id.,  p.  278.  This  picture  of  the  Fornarina,  still  in  the 
Barberini  Palace,  Room  in,  No.  85,  is  now  known  to  be  not 
by  Raphael,  but  by  Giulio  Romano.  Gray  makes  no  men- 
tion of  La  Donna  Velata  in  the  Pitti  Palace  in  Florence. 
Cf.  Julia  Cartwright  in  Bryan's  Diet,  of  Painters,  new  ed., 
iv,  195. 

82  Id.,  p.  283.     Then  in  the  Palazzo  Corsini. 

83  Id.,  p.  239.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Sacchetti;  now,  ap- 
parently, in  the  S.  Luca  Gallery,  Saloon  in,  No.  133. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  425 

only  could  imagine.  The  Sveltezza,  and  light- 
ness of  the  whole  figure,  added  to  the  marvellous 
sweep  its  attitude  gives  it,  make  a  most  divine 
picture,  and  the  colouring  is  all  gay  and  har- 
monious."84 Herodias  Receiving  the  Baptist's 
Head:  "The  colouring  even  more  languid  than 
ordinary,  but  pleasing  and  very  fresh;  beauty 
and  grace  in  perfection."85  The  Annunciation: 
"Such  heavenly  beauty  in  both  figures  as  no 
words  can  express;  the  drawing  of  the  virgin 
under  her  blue  drapery  incorrect."86  St. 
Andrea  Corsini:  "The  profile  mos';  exquisite; 
the  colouring  all  light,  and  harmony  very  capi- 
tal."87 The  Magdalen:  "Such  eyes  and  such 
a  face,  such  beauty  and  sorrow  sure  as  never 
were  seen  in  any  mortal  creature;  the  hands  and 
feet  equal  to  the  head.  .  .  Drapery  in  vast 
magnificent  folds,  ...  a  colouring  solemnly 
sweet,  though  all  is  light  and  exquisitely  har- 
monious; most  divine!"88 

Salvatore  Rosa.  The  Death  of  Regulus:  "An 
ill-chosen  subject,  as  the  principal  figure  was 
not  in  a  condition  of  appearing  to  advantage; 
.  .  .  the  various  attitudes  and  expressions 
admirably  imagined,  and  full  of  fire,  with  which 

84  Id.,  p.  242.     In  the  Church  of  the  Cappuccini. 

85  Id.,  p.  245.     Then  in  the  Palazzo  Colonna;  now,  appar- 
ently, at  Burghley  House  in  England. 

86  Id.,  p.  252.     Still  in  the  Quirinal. 

87  Id.,  p.  278.     In  the  Barberini  Palace,  Room  n,  No.  65. 
s*  Id.,  p.  280.     Then  in  the  Palazzo  Barberini. 


426  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

he  abounded;  the  drawing  most  masterly  and 
bold;  a   very  capital    picture."89 

Rubens.  He  makes  no  mention  of  the 
Madonna  and  Saints  with  which  Rubens  decor- 
ated the  Chiesa  Nuova  in  1608.  The  Draught  of 
Fishes  (Palazzo  del  Card.  Giudice):  "Many 
fine  attitudes,  great  spirit."90 

Titian.  Madonna  Dolorosa:  "The  expression 
touching,  but  without  grace."91  The  School- 
master: "Truly  good,  and  perfect  nature."92 
Bartolus  and  Baldus:  "Perfect  nature  and  life, 
exquisitely  painted."93  A  Bacchanal  "is  in 
high  esteem,  though  there  are  many  faults 
and  disproportions."94  He  makes  no  mention 
of  Earthly  and  Heavenly  Love,  which  had  been 
in  the  Borghese  collection  at  least  since  1648. 95 

Van  Dyck.  A  Lady  in  Black:  "No  grace 
or  beauty  for  a  portrait.  A  painter  must  take 
nature  as  he  finds  it,  and  must  imitate  also 
the  Gothic  dress  of  the  times,  but  the  face, 

89  Id.,  p.  247.     Then  in  the  Palazzo  Colonna. 

90  Id.,  p.  288. 

91  Id.,  p.  233.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Borghese;  now,  appar- 
ently in  the  Prado  Gallery  in  Madrid. 

92  Id.,  p.  234.     Then  in  the  Palazzo  Borghese. 

93  Id.,  p.  294.     Then  in  the  Palazzo  Doria  Pamphili. 

94  Id.,  p.  296.  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Doria  Pamphili;  now, 
apparently,  in  the  Prado  Gallery  in  Madrid.  None  of  the 
above  four,  apparently,  is  allowed  as  genuine  by  Crowe  and 
Cavalcaselle. 

95  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  Life  and  Times  of  Titian,  i,  62. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  427 

the  hands  are  painted  to  a  miracle,  the  skin 
perfectly  transparent,  true  flesh  and  blood."96 

Though  he  seems  to  have  spent  most  of  his 
time  on  paintings,  Gray  was  also  very  observant 
of  sculpture,  both  ancient  and  modern,  and  de- 
scribes a  considerable  number  of  statues.  The 
Alexander  the  Great  in  the  Palazzo  Barberini 
is  impressive,  "vastly  striking,  and  undoubtedly 
the  work  of  some  great  master." 97  The  Bacchus, 
or  Sleeping  Fawn,  is  in  the ' '  noblest  style  possible 
and  perfectly  fine  in  every  respect."98  Of  the 
statues  of  Alexander  Severus  and  Julia  Mam- 
msea  in  the  Capitol,  the  attitudes  are  "  stiff, 
and  drapery  in  little  unnatural  plaits."99  The 
Dying  Gladiator  is  "for  expression  (after  the 
Laocoon),  to  be  sure  the  noblest  statue  in  the 
world."100  Of  modern  sculpture  he  has  some- 
what less  to  say.  Of  Bernini's  St.  Ludovica  Alber- 
toni  he  says:  "She  is  in  the  habit  of  a  nun,  and 
consequently  wrapped  up  in  a  vast  deal  of  dra- 
pery, which  is  not  very  light  or  natural;  however, 
there  is  abundance  of  labour  in  it  and  the  head 
is  good."101     Stephano  Maderna's  St.  Cecilia, 

96  Works,  ed.  Mitford,  iv,  295f .  Then  in  the  Palazzo  Doria 
Pamphili.  It  cannot  be  identified  with  certainty,  but  may- 
be the  picture  now  owned  by  the  Earl  of  Denbigh  at  New- 
ham  Paddox.     See  Cust,  opp.  p.  14. 

"Id.,  p.  275. 

98 Id.,  p.  281.    Also  in  the  Barberini  Palace. 

99  Id.,  p.  299.     In  the  Capitoline  Museum,  Room  v. 

100 Id.,  p.  305.     In  the  same,  Room  i. 

101  Id.,  p.  261.  In  the  Church  of  S.  Francesco  a  Ripa 
Grande. 


428  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

in  the  Church  of  St.  Cecilia  in  Trastevere, 
is  "extremely  natural,  and  the  drapery  easy  and 
simple."102  Michael  Angelo's  Christ  Trium- 
phant he  greatly  admires:  "the  head  somewhat 
inclining  to  one  side,  the  looks  full  of  mildness 
and  extensive  humanity,  and  an  attitude  per- 
fectly easy  and  natural;  the  marble  truly  soft- 
ened into  flesh;  nothing  can  be  more  exquisite 
han  the  turn  of  the  limbs;  sculpture  can  go  no 
farther."103  It  is  strange  to  find  that  this  work, 
which  was  only  blocked  out  by  Michael  Angelo, 
is  the  only  one  by  him  of  which  Gray  speaks. 
Why  he  did  not  visit  San  Pietro  in  Vincoli  or  the 
Vatican,  we  do  not  know;  there  are  no  notes 
on  these  places,  nor  do  Walpole's  letters  record 
any  visit  to  them. 

Early  in  June,  1740,  the  travelers  again  took 
the  road  and  proceeded  to  Naples,  "through 
the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  finest  country  in 
the  world;  and  every  spot  of  it  on  some  account 
or  other,  famous  for  these  three  thousand  years 
past."104  In  his  notes  of  this  journey  we  find 
a  plentiful  sprinkling  of  quotations  from  classi- 
cal writers;  the  narrative  is  full  of  Addison's 
spirit.     His  descriptions  of  scenery  and  land- 

102  Id.,  p.  262. 

103  Id.,  p.  270.  In  the  Church  of  S.  Maria  sopra  Minerva. 
Cf.  Lord  Gower,  Michael  Angelo  Buonarroti,  London,  1903, 
pp.  54-55,  where  various  views  of  this  work  are  expressed. 

104  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  71. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  429 

scape  are  much  fuller  than  Addison's.  On 
the  road  to  Fondi  "  the  hedges  abound  with  the 
broad-leaved  myrtle,  bay,  Spanish-broom,  lau- 
rustine  and  many  flowering  shrubs  I  never  saw 
before."105  Like  Addison,  he  comments  on  the 
change  noticeable  when  one  leaves  the  Pope's 
dominions.  "What  must  such  a  country  be,"  he 
asks,  "in  the  times  of  liberty,  when  even  under 
the  execrable  government  it  has  now  long  been 
subject  to,  it  can  nourish  in  this  manner?"106  He 
describes  in  detail  the  impressive  view  from  the 
Monastery  of  S.  Martino.  Caravaggio's  Denial 
of  Christ  in  the  sacristy  "is  true  nature  indeed, 
and  excellent  in  a  low  way,  but  it  is  a  perfectly 
Dutch  scene."107  Of  Ribera's  Descent  from  the 
Cross  he  says:  "The  dead  Christ  .  .  .  is  a 
most  admirable  figure  both  for  drawing  and 
colouring;  nothing  can  be  more  easy,  and  it 
perfectly  comes  forward  from  the  canvass."108 
Of  Lanfranco's  decoration  of  the  vault  he  re- 
marks: "If  you  come  to  particular  parts,  there 
is  no  great  grace,  or  expression,  neither  is  the 
drawing  always  correct;  but  in  the  whole  a 
greatness  in  the  execution,  a  perfect  mastery  in 


io6  Tovey,  Gray  and  His  Friends,  p.  229. 

106  Id.,  p.  231;  Cf.  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  71. 

107  Id.,  p.  234. 

108  Id.,  p.  234.  Reproduced  by  Mrs.  Bell  in  her  Lives  and 
Legends  of  the  Evangelists,  Apostles,  and  other  Early  Saints, 
London,  1901,  p.  170,  and  by  C.  von  Liitzow,  Die  Kunst- 
schatze  Italiens,  Gera,  1884,  p.  484. 


430  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

the  management  of  his  colours,  and  a  great 
harmony,  that  strikes  the  eye  all  at  once,  a 
certain  furia  in  his  airs,  and  the  draperies 
always  noble  and  simple."109 

He  passed  through  the  Grotta  Nuova  di 
Posillipo,  and  visited  the  Grotta  del  Cane  and 
the  Stufe  di  S.  Germane  He  recorded  his 
impressions  of  Monte  Barbaro  (the  Gaurus) 
in  a  Latin  poem  sent  to  West.110  Vesuvius 
was  then  extremely  quiet ;  "some  days  one  could 
not  perceive  it  smoke  at  all."  His  description 
of  Herculaneum,  which  had  been  unearthed 
about  a  year  before,  is  interesting,  but  need  not 
detain  us. 

After  a  fortnight  in  Rome  the  party  returned 
on  July  14th,  to  Florence.  On  August  19th 
came  the  news  of  the  election  of  Benedict  XIV; 
but  the  heat,  much  to  Gray's  regret,  prevented 
them  from  traveling  to  Rome  to  see  the  corona- 
tion. Though  he  passed  eleven  months  in 
Florence,  Gray  wrote  West  that  he  knew  neither 
people  nor  language.  That  the  city,  however, 
powerfully  appealed  to  him  is  evidenced  by  the 
lines,  "Oh  Fsesulse  amoena  Frigoribus  juga," 
etc.,  which  he  enclosed  in  a  letter  to  West,  April 
21,  1741.  At  Reggio  occurred  the  quarrel  with 
Walpole,  after  which  Gray  returned  home 
through  Venice,  Padua,  Verona,  Milan,  Turin, 

i«2tf.f  p.  235. 

110  Works,  ed.   Gosse,  i,   179-81. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  431 

and  Lyons,  which  he  reached  on  August  25th. 
There  are  no  published  records  of  his  returning 
journey. 

Gray's  love  of  scenery  became  more  intense 
as  he  grew  older.  Though  he  never  again  left 
Great  Britain,  he  made  several  journeys  to 
the  north  of  England  and  one  to  Scotland. 
The  most  important  record  of  this  experience  is 
found  in  his  Journal  in  the  Lakes,  composed 
directly  for  Dr.  Wharton's  benefit.  The  narra- 
tive begins  at  Brough,  September  30,  1769. 
The  next  day,  equipped  with  a  Claude  Lorraine 
glass,  he  viewed  Ulswater — "  directly  at  my 
feet  majestic  in  its  calmness,  clear  and  smooth  as 
a  blue  mirror,  with  winding  shores  and  low  points 
of  land  covered  with  green  inclosures,  white 
farm  houses  looking  out  among  the  trees,  and 
cattle  feeding.  The  water  is  almost  every 
where  bordered  with  cultivated  lands  gently 
sloping  upwards  till  they  reach  the  feet  of  the 
mountains,  which  rise  very  rude  and  awful  with 
their  broken  tops  on  either  hand."111  Next 
day,  on  the  road  to  Keswick,  he  passed  Saddle- 
back, "whose  furrowed  sides  were  gilt  by  noon- 
day sun,  while  its  brow  appeared  of  a  sad  purple 
from  the  shadow  of  the  clouds,  as  they  sailed 
slowly  by  it."112  His  description  of  the  cele- 
brated panorama  northwest  from  Castlerigg, 

111  Works,  ed.  Gosse,  i,  251. 

112  Id.,  p.  253. 


432  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

a  view  which  has  been  alleged  to  have  no  equal 
in  Great  Britain,  must  be  quoted  in  full: 

....  Drew  near  the  foot  of  Walla-crag,  whose 
bare  and  rocky  brow,  cut  perpendicularly  down 
above  four  hundred  feet,  as  I  guess,  awfully  over- 
looks the  way;  our  path  here  tends  to  the  left,  and 
the  ground  gently  rising,  and  covered  with  a  glade 
of  scattering  trees  and  bushes  on  the  very  margin 
of  the  water,  opens  both  ways  the  most  delicious 
view  that  my  eyes  ever  beheld.  Behind  you  are 
the  magnificient  heights  of  Walla-crag;  opposite 
lie  the  thick  hanging  woods  of  Lord  Egremont,  and 
Newland  Valley,  with  green  and  smiling  fields  em- 
bosomed in  the  dark  cliffs;  to  the  left  the  jaws  of 
Borrowdale,  with  that  turbulent  chaos  of  mountain 
behind  mountain,  rolled  in  confusion;  beneath  you, 
and  stretching  far  away  to  the  right,  the  shining 
purity  of  the  Lake,  just  ruffled  by  the  breeze,  enough 
to  shew  it  is  alive,  reflecting  rocks,  woods,  fields, 
and  inverted  tops  of  mountains,  with  the  white 
buildings  of  Keswick,  Crossthwaite  Church,  and 
Skiddaw  for  a  background  at  a  distance.113 

As  he  entered  Borrowdale,  the  crags  of  Lodor- 
banks  impended  terribly  over  his  way;  Gowder 

111  Works,  ed.  Gosse,  i,  254;  cf.  p.  264.  It  will  be  recalled 
that  Southey  wrote  of  this  view:  "The  vale  of  Keswick, 
with  Skiddaw  for  its  huge  boundary  and  bulwark,  to  the 
North,  and  where  Bassenthwaite  stretches  into  the  open 
country,  a  distance  of  water,  hills,  and  remote  horizon,  in 
which  Claude  would  have  found  all  he  desired,  and  more 
than  even  he  could  have  represented,  had  he  beheld  it  in 
the  glory  of  a  midsummer  sunset."  Sir  Thomas  More, 
or  Colloquies,  i,  122.  Cf .  his  comparison  of  Alpine  scenery, 
Life  and  Correspondence,  iv,  277f.  See  also  Dr.  Dalton's 
Descriptive  Poem,  quoted  in  part  by  Miss  Reynolds,  op.  cit., 
pp.  226f. 


\ 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  433 

Crag  was  even  more  formidable,  and  reminded 
him  of  passes  in  the  Alps  where  the  guides 
ordered  one  to  move  rapidly  on  in  silence. 
Pas-ing  Helm  Crag  on  the  Ambleside  road,  he 
was  also  delighted  with  the  broad  basin  in  which 
lies  Grasmere  Lake.114  On  the  road  along  Win- 
dermere toward  Kendal  he  was  rewarded  with 
"delicious  views"  across  the  lake  to  the  south 
and  west.  Continuing  through  Burton,  Lan- 
caster, and  Settle,  he  came,  on  October  14th,  to 
Gordale  Scar,  which  powerfully  impressed  him. 
The  precipice  under  which  he  stood  to  see  the 
fall  formed  "the  principal  horror  of  the  place"; 
the  impression  he  felt  sure  would  last  for  life. 
Thence  he  passed  through  Skipton  to  Ottley. 
Wharf  dale  was"  a  beautiful  vale" ;  "well  wooded, 
well  cultivated,  well  inhabited,  but  with  high 
crags  at  distance,  that  border  the  green  country 
on  either  hand,  through  the  midst  of  it,  deep, 
clear,  full  to  the  brink  and  of  no  inconsiderable 
breadth  runs  in  long  windings  the  river."115 
With  his  arrival  at  Leeds  the  journal  ceases. 


IV. 


It  is  time  to  bring  together  our  scattered  im- 
pressions of  our  two  travelers.  With  reference 
to  politics  we  have  found  Addison  more  inter- 

114  Id.,  p.  265. 

us  Works,  ed.  Gosse,  i,  279. 


434  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

ested  than  Gray.  The  latter  only  rarely  alludes 
to  governments,  and  at  the  time  of  his  Conti- 
nental journey  had  not  yet  given  the  subject 
much  thought.  Addison,  on  the  other  hand,  as 
we  have  seen,  had  a  keen  interest  in  political 
affairs.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  verses 
which  brought  him  his  Magdalen  demyship 
in  1689  were  on  the  subject  Inauguratio  Regis 
Gulielmi;  in  1695  he  produced  a  flattering  Address 
to  King  William;  and  his  verses  on  "The  Peace 
of  Ryswick"  in  1697  impressed  Edmund  Smith 
as  "the  best  Latin  poem  since  the  Mneid." 
If  Addison  designed  in  these  years  to  take  or- 
ders, it  was  not  because  religion  absorbed  his 
attention,  but  rather  because  the  clerical  career 
was  in  those  days  regarded  by  many  as  a  means 
of  avoiding  financial  embarrassment,  and  success 
therein  was  frequently  assured  through  discreet 
political  activity.116  The  mere  retaining  of 
his  Magdalen  fellowship  can  hardly  have  been 
a  dominating  motive  for  taking  orders ;  for  even 
without  this  he  held  the  fellowship  till  1711. 

In  the  expression  of  religious  and  theological 
opinions  Addison  is  far  more  outspoken  than 
Gray.  The  latter  has  less  to  say  on  these  sub- 
jects; one  gathers  from  what  he  does  say,  how- 
ever, that  he  was  an  eager  though  not  always 
sympathetic  observer  of  the  rites  of  the  Roman 
Church.  On  the  whole  he  makes  very  few  criti- 
cisms of  religious  beliefs  or  practices. 

118  Courthope,  Addison,  p.  43. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  435 

In  the  appreciation  and  criticism  of  art  we 
must  pronounce  Gray  far  superior.     It  is  true 
that  one  of  Addison's  motives  for  saying  so 
little  about  the  paintings  in  Rome  was  possibly 
that  he  thought  others  had  treated  the  subject 
better  than  he  could,  and  another  was  that  he 
was  writing  for  a  public  little  interested  in  the 
criticism  of  painting.     Still,    several  readings 
of  his  travels  convince  me  that  he  cared  little 
for  the  art  of  painting;  sculpture,  especially 
ancient  sculpture,  appealed  to  him  far  more. 
Had  Greek  and  Roman  painting  more  largely 
survived,   Addison  might  have  been  less  in- 
different to  this  form  of  art.      Gray  was  far 
more  attentive  to  painting  than  to  sculpture. 
In  his  notes  on  Rome,  for  example,  he  cat- 
alogues   more    than    two    hundred    and   fifty 
paintings  with  some  comment  on  almost  every 
one;  of  pieces  of  sculpture  he  mentions  specifi- 
cally not  more  than  forty.    In  judging  a  picture 
he  was  likely  to  note  the  propriety  of  the  sub- 
ject and  treatment,  the  correctness  of  the  draw- 
ing, characteristics  of  the  painter,  and  the  state 
of  preservation.    His  taste  led  him,  in  general,  to 
the  best  pictures  accessible,  and  he  made  few 
mistakes  of  judgment.    Perhaps  he  is  most  at 
variance  with  modern  views  in  his  dislike  of 
Andrea  del  Sarto.    There  were,  of  course,  many 
art  treasures  which  for  some  reason  he  did  not 
see  at  all,  or  on  which,  at  least,  he  has  left  no 
comments.     Many  pictures,  too,  he  doubtless 


436  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

saw  in  a  poor  light,  and  hence  could  not  do 
them  justice.  The  Borghese  paintings,  for 
example,  were  at  that  time  in  a  wretched  condi- 
tion,117 and  could  not  be  seen  to  advantage. 

On  the  subject  of  architecture  we  find  little 
in  the  writings  of  either  traveler  that  is  of  much 
importance.  Neither  writer  at  this  period  of 
his  life  had  fully  awakened  to  the  significance  of 
architectural  design  or  its  influence  upon  the 
senses.  Addison,  it  is  true,  compares  St.  Peter's 
to  a  Gothic  cathedral  to  the  disadvantage  of 
the  latter,118  and  decides  that  the  cross  form  is 
better  for  large  buildings  than  the  rotund. 
Gray  is  severe  on  the  tawdry  effects  of  Versailles ; 
he  describes  the  Pitti  Palace  with  care  and  accur- 
acy; he  pronounces  the  Roman  Capitol  "in  a 
very  noble  taste."  Yet  neither  writer  on  the 
whole  gives  as  much  attention  to  describing 
buildings  or  even  to  architectural  details  as 
a  present  day  writer  would  be  likely  to  do. 
Of  the  impression  left  by  the  Duomo  or  S. 
Croce  in  Florence,  S.  Marco  or  the  Doges' 
Palace  in  Venice,  or  the  Castello  del  Ovo  in 
Naples,  upon  either  writer,  we  have  no  record. 
They  were  then  more  interested  in  other 
things. 

We  have  already  inspected  Addison's  quota- 
tions  and   noted   his   indifference   to   modern 


117  Gray,  Works,  ed.  Mitford,  iv,  230f. 

118  Works,  ed.  Bohn,  i,  417. 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  437 

writers  and  to  prose  both  ancient  and  modern. 
It  is  singular  that  Gray,  who  was  well  read  in 
Italian,119  and  not  at  all  blind  to  the  merits  of 
the  modern  writers,  does  not,  in  describing  his 
travels,  quote  from  any  modern  writer;  and  the 
quotations  he  does  make,  for  example  in  the 
pages  describing  Naples  and  its  environs,  are 
all  from  the  Latin  poets.  If  he  sought  for  the 
haunts  of  Dante  in  Florence,  of  Petrarch  at 
Parma  or  Milan  or  Padua,  or  of  Tasso  or 
Ariosto  at  Ferrara,  he  makes  no  mention  of  it 
in  either  his  letters  or  his  notes.  From  a  lit- 
erary point  of  view  Italy  was  for  him  primarily, 
as  it  was  for  Addison,  the  land  of  Virgil,  Silius 
Italicus,  Statius,  Martial,  Livy,  and  Tully. 

It  is  in  respect  to  Nature  that  the  most  con- 
siderable contrast  is  seen  between  the  two. 
We  have  already  noted  Addison's  attitude,  and 
observed  how  he  generally  prefers  the  milder 
aspects  of  Nature.  Gray,  even  in  his  youth— 
and  we  may  well  believe  the  passion  did  not 
lessen,  but  rather  increased  with  years — loved 
Nature  in  all  her  aspects.  For  him  the  per- 
sonal discomfort  incident  to  the  hardships  of 
Alpine  travel  in  those  days  was  as  nothing  to 
the  delight  with  which  he  viewed  the  varied 
and  majestic  scenery.120  He  sounded  a  new 
note  in  literature,  a  note  which  has  not  ceased 

119  Cf .  Letters,  ed.  Tovey,  i,  15,  note  1. 

120  Contrast  Walpole's  attitude,   e.g.,   Letters,  ed.   Mrs. 
Toynbee,  i,  93. 


438  CLARK  S.  NORTHUP 

to  be  associated  with  rich  harmonies,  when  he 
wrote  in  the  album  of  the  Grande  Chartreuse: 

Prsesentiorem  et  conspicimus  Deum 
Per  invias  rupes,  fera  per  juga, 
Clivosque    prseruptos,    sonantes 
Inter  aquas,  nemorumque  noctem; 
Quam  si  repostus  sub  trabe  citrea 
Fulgeret  auro,  et  Phidiaca  manu. 

The  question  how  far  each  writer  is  typical 
of  his  generation  is  too  large  to  answer  here; 
my  space  having  already  been  exhausted.  I 
can  only  record  my  impression  that  Addison 
is  somewhat  more  typical  than  Gray,  who  seems 
in  some  respects  to  be  in  advance  of  his  times. 
This  is  especially  true,  I  think,  of  his  treatment 
of  Nature. 

Finally,  how  great  was  the  influence  of  his 
travels  on  each  writer?  Much  less,  I  think,  on 
Addison  than  on  Gray.  The  Dialogues  on  Medals 
reveal  few  specific  traces  of  influence  of  the  scene 
amid  which  they  were  written.121  In  some 
issues  of  The  Tatler,  The  Spectator,  and  The 
Guardian,122  Addison  draws  on  his  Continental 
experiences.  With  Addison's  Letter  from  Italy 
may  be  compared  Gray's  Farewell  to  Florence, 
Fragment  on  the  Gaurus,  Elegiacs  from  Trebia, 

121  In  Works,  ed.  Bohn,  i,  259,  he  notes  the  familiarity  of 
Carraccio,  Raphael,  LeBrun,  and  Rubens  with  medals, 
and  in  ii,  215,  he  refers  to  Correggio's  Cupid  and  Mercury. 

122  E.g.,  The  Tatler,  No.  93;  The  Spectator,  Nos.  15,  25,  42, 
83,  393;  The  Guardian,  Nos.  101,  104;  The  Freeholder,  No.  30 


ADDISON  AND  GRAY  439 

Carmen  ad  Favonium,  Alcaic  Ode,  and  some 
fragments.  With  the  numberless  ways  in 
which  their  experiences  as  travelers  doubtless 
entered  into  their  lives  and,  though  without 
being  detected,  into  their  writings,  we  cannot 
further  deal  here.  That  the  lives  of  both,  how- 
ever, were  richer  and  more  useful  as  a  result  of 
these  experiences,  the  careful  reader  can  have 
little  doubt. 


THE  PLAYS   OF   EDWARD    SHARPHAM 

BY    MARTIN    VV .    SAMPSON,    M.A. 

Very  little  is  known  of  Edward  Sharpham, 
save  that  he  was  the  son  of  Richard  Sharpham 
of  Devonshire,  that  he  became  a  member  of  the 
Middle  Temple  in  1594,  and  that  he  was  the 
author  of  a  comedy,  The  Fleire  (S.  R.  13  May 
and  21  Nov.  1606),  and  the  probable  author  of 
another  comedy,  Cupid's  Whirligig  (S.  R.  29 
June  1607).  Each  of  these  plays  was  printed 
at  least  four  times  between  1607  and  1631, 
and  neither  play  has  since,  I  think,  been  re- 
printed. Reprinting  would  doubtless  be  an 
undeserved  distinction,  but  a  note  on  the  plays 
will  hardly  be  out  of  place. 

Hitherto  they  have  received  but  scant  com- 
ment:— the  index  to  Ward's  Dramatic  Litera- 
ture makes  no  mention  of  Sharpham  or  or  the 
plays;  Collier  (Dram.  Poetry,  ii,  502)  inciden- 
tally refers  to  a  quotation  from  Marlowe  in 
The  Fleire;  Genest  (x,  94)  sketches  the  plot 
of  The  Fleire  and  calls  it  a  "  tolerable  comedy," 
— Cupid's  Whirligig  (not  assigned  to  an  author) 
being  promptly  dismissed  without  outline,  as 
"a   poor   play   with   nothing   to   commend   it 


THE  PLAYS  OF  SHARPHAM  441 

except  some  low  humour  in  the  dialogue"  (x,  93) ; 
the  several  editions  of  Langbaine  and  his  suc- 
cessors in  the  Biographia  Dramatica  mention 
Sharpham  and  the  plays  but  briefly,  as  does 
Schelling  (Eliz.  Dr.  i,  518) ;  and  Fleay's  comment 
(Biog.  Chron.  ii,  232),  besides  being  brief,  con- 
tains two  errors:  6  Majr  for  13  May,  the  date  of 
entry  (Halliwell1  and  Hazlitt2  rnake  the  same 
mistake),  and  1621  for  1631,  the  date  of  the 
fourth  edition,  respectively,  of  The  Fleire. 

"A  Comedie  called  The  fleare"  was  entered 
to  John  Trundell  and  John  Busbye  13  May  1606, 
" Provided  that  they  are  not  to  printe  yt 
tell  they  bringe  good  aucthoritie  and  licence  for 
the  Doinge  thereof"  (Arber,  hi,  321).  On  21 
Nov.  of  the  same  year  another  entry  (Arber, 
hi,  333)  notes  the  assignment  of  the  book  from 
John  Trundell  to  John  Busbie  and  Arthure 
Johnson,  with  the  authority  of  Sir  George 
Bucke  (at  that  time  deputy  to  the  master  of  the 
revels).  The  four  extant  impressions  are  of 
1607,  1610,  1615,  and  1631,  the  last  three  of 
which  were  printed  for  Nathaniel  Butter. 
The  four  editions  exhibit  only  unimportant 
variations:  each  later  edition  is  printed,  practi- 
cally page  for  page,  from  the  edition  immediately 
preceding,  and  the  differences  in  spelling,  etc., 
are  only  those  that  would  naturally  occur  in  a 
rapid  setting  up  where  there  was  no  intention  to 

1  Diet.  Old  Eng.  Plays. 

2  Handbook. 


442  MARTIN  W.  SAMPSON 

reprint  literatim.  There  are  no  additions  or 
changes  in  the  substance  of  the  text;  and  as 
the  apology  of  the  publisher  to  the  effect  that 
he  has  lost  the  author's  preface,3  and  cannot 
learn  the  author's  whereabouts,  appears  in  all 
the  editions,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  from  first  to 
last  the  test  underwent  no  critical  revision  before 
reprinting. 

The  first  edition — the  only  one,  therefore, 
that  need  be  considered — is  a  quarto,  the  text 
running  from  sig.  B1,  to  H4,  56  pages.  The 
title  page  reads : 

The  |  Fleire.]  As  it  hath  beene  often  played  in  the 
|Blacke-Fryers  by  the  Children  of  |  the  Reuells.  | 
Written  by  Edward  Sharpham  of  the  Middle 
Temple,  Gentle-  |  man.  |  At  London,  |  Printed  and 
are  to  be  solde  by  F.  B.4  in  Paules-Church-  |  yard,  at 
the  signe  of  the  Flower  de  Luce  and  the  |  Crowne. 
1607. 

The  play  is  in  prose  and  verse,  a  good  deal  of 
the  latter  being  printed  as  prose,  from  which,  to 
be  frank,  it  is  not  always  readily  distinguisable. 
The  acts  are  marked,  but  the  scenes  are  not  indi- 
cated. There  is  no  list  of  the  characters,  who 
(excluding  servants)  number  sixteen,  five  of 
them  being  women.  The  publisher's  preface 
declares  that  the  play  is  the  author's  "  first 

3  The  loss  of  this  preface  is  the  more  to  be  regretted, 
as  it  might  perhaps  have  thrown  a  side  light  on  current 
theatrical  matters. 

1  Francis  Burton. 


THE  PLAYS  OF  SHARPHAM  443 

Minerua,"  and  promises  more  if  this  is  accept- 
able. 

The  date  of  performance  may  be  said  with 
reasonable  certainty  to  be  not  earlier  than  1605, 
first  because  of  the  omission  of  the  words  "Her 
Majesty's"  from  the  Children's  title,  and  second 
because  of  the  obvious  resemblance  of  the  chief 
character  in  the  play  to  the  chief  character  in 
Marston's  Parasitaster,  or  The  Fawne  (S.  R.  12 
March  1606),  a  play  which  was  given,  as  the 
first  edition  (1606)  states,  in  the  Blackfriars  by 
the  children  of  Her  Majesty's  Revels,  and  "  since 
at  Poules,"  as  the  second  edition  (also  of  1606) 
notes.  This  would  indicate  that  The  Fawne 
was  taken  over  by  the  Paul's  children  after  the 
Eastward  Ho  trouble  at  Blackfriars  in  1605,  and 
that  a  new  play  with  the  same  kind  ot  leading 
figure  was  substituted  for  it  in  the  Revels  chil- 
dren's repertory.  On  the  other  hand,  the  jests 
about  Englishmen  turned  Britons  would  imply 
the  earliest  date  compatible  with  the  foregoing 
facts.  The  date  of  The  Fleire  would  then  seem 
to  fall  in  1605-6. 

The  title  of  the  play,  Fleire,  is  a  word  made 
up,  after  the  manner  of  Marston's  word,  Fawne, 
by  using  as  a  noun  the  verb-form,  instead  of  the 
more  logical  but  less  forcible '  fleerer,'  or '  fawner.' 
'Fleer,'  which  has  preserved  a  place  in  our  lan- 
guage, means  to  laugh  mockingly,  to  sneer  or 
gibe,  a  meaning  which  sufficiently  suggests  the 
title  personage  of  the  comedy. 


444  MARTIN  W.  SAMPSON 

With  the  similarity  of  Duke  Antifront,  dis- 
guised as  the  Fleire,  to  Duke  Hercules,  dis- 
guised as  the  Fawne,the  important  resemblance 
between  the  plays  really  ends:  the  plots  are  not 
the  same.  Of  The  Fleire,  much  of  the  plot  and 
most  of  the  personages  are  fundamentally  un- 
pleasant. The  story  centers  in  the  deposed 
Duke  of  Florence,  who,  in  disguise,  has  left 
Italy  to  search  for  his  daughters;  he  finds  them 
courtesans  in  London,  enters  their  service  as 
usher,  and  finally  brings  about  their  marriages 
to  their  lovers.  Jealous  intrigues,  supposed 
murders,  and  much  buffoonery  figure  in  the 
play,  whose  main  ob j  ect ,  however,  is  to  give  Fleire 
a  chance  to  comment  bitingly  on  the  vices  and 
follies  of  the  day.  The  play,  then,  is  a  satirical 
comedy  of  manners  and  customs,  and  not  a 
romance,  or,  strictly  speaking,  a  comedy  of 
intrigue,  either  of  which  its  mere  story  migh+ 
permit  it  to  be. 

The  play  has  an  over-symmetrical  supply 
of  characters  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  plot. 
Two  men  of  title  are  in  love  with  the  two  court- 
esans; two  sisters  are  in  love  with  two  gentle- 
men, and  disguise  themselves  as  pages  in  the 
hope  of  entering  the  gentlemen's  service.  This 
proving  impossible,  they  enter  the  service  ot  the 
men  of  title.  The  courtesans  woo  the  gentle- 
men, and  being  refused  by  them,  decide  on  poi- 
soning them  with  the  help  of  the  men  of  title. 
Fleire,  who  has  been  on  the  stage  almost  inces- 


THE  PLAYS  OF  SHARPHAM  445 

santly,  a  confidant  of  every  one,  now  disguises 
himself  as  an  apothecary  and  sells  the  would-be 
murderers  a  harmless  sleeping  potion;  and  then, 
disguised  as  a  judge,  presides  at  their  murder 
trial.  The  play  ends  with  marriages  arranged 
between  the  courtesans  and  their  lovers,  and 
the  gentlemen  and  the  sister  pages;  and  the  un- 
expected restoration  of  Antifront,  the  Fleire, 
to  his  dukedom.  Two  or  three  other  charac- 
ters drift  through  the  play,  but  they  are  "hu- 
mours," not  essentially  connected  with  the  plot. 

The  movement  of  the  play  is  in  the  main 
slow,  but  the  dialogue  is  rapid  when  the  action 
lags.  Many  of  Fleire's  jests  are  keen,  and  in 
his  tilts  with  the  other  characters  he  always 
scores.  The  playing  at  cross-purposes  which 
forms  the  entanglement  denotes  a  fondness 
for  paradox  which  Sharpham  exhibits  freely  in 
his  dialogue  as  well  as  in  his  plot.  The  char- 
acters, as  originally  conceived,  are  sufficiently 
varied  to  carry  on  the  plot  effectively,  but  their 
speech  is  so  much  in  one  key  that  the  sense  of 
variety  is  lost. 

The  entire  first  act  is  taken  up  with  the  pre- 
sentation of  the  characters,  Fleire's  entrance 
into  service,  and  Nan  and  Susan's  determination 
to  disguise  themselves  as  pages.  The  scene  in 
which  a  gull,  Petoune,  "a  great  Tobaconist," 
is  chaffed  by  the  four  gallants,  Sir  John,  Piso, 
Spark,  and  Ruftell,  is  fairly  typical  of  the  style 
of  the  dialogue  in  general: 


446  MARTIN  W.  SAMPSON 

Spa.  Sure  Ladies  I  must  needes  say  th'  instinct 
of  this  herb  hath  wrought  in  this  Gentleman  such  a 
diuine  influence  of  good  words,  excellet  discourse, 
admirable  inuention,  incoparable  wit :  why  I  tel  yee, 
when  he  talkes,  wisdom  stands  a  mile  off  and  dares 
not  come  neere  him,  for  feare  a  should  shame  her: 
but  before  a  did  vse  this  Tobacco,  a  was  the  arrantst 
Woodcock  that  euer  I  saw. 

Pet.     Indeed  I  was  a  very  silly  fellow. 

Ruff.     Nay  you  were  an  arrant  asse. 

Pet.     Sure  I  was  a  foole. 

Kni.     Nay,  you  were  a  most  monstrous  puppie. 

Pet.    Indeed  I  was  an  idiot,  a  verie  Idiot. 

Piso.  By  this  light  thou  wert  a  most  egregious 
coxcombe. 

Pet.     Indeed  I  was,  indeed  I  was. 

A  good  contrast  to  this  follows  in  the  gallant's 
tilt  with  Fleire,  in  which  the  tables  are  turned. 

The  second  act  advances  the  story  only  to  the 
point  where,  gently  refused  by  Spark  and  Ruff  ell, 
Florida  and  Felecia  crave  revenge.  Most  of  the 
act  is  taken  up  by  Fleire,  who  is  on  the  stage 
the  entire  time,  conversing  confidentially  with 
all  the  leading  characters  in  turn,  and  proffer- 
ing help  in  their  several  designs. 

In  the  third  act,  wooed  by  letters  from  Piso 
and  Sir  John,  Florida  and  Felecia  determine  to 
use  their  lovers  to  further  their  own  revenge. 
Fleire  encourages  the  further  wooing  of  his 
daughters  and  incidentally  helps  to  persuade 
Petoune  to  woo  the  bawd  Fromaga. 


THE  PLAYS  OF  SHARPHAM  447 

It  is  not  until  the  fourth  act  that  the  scheme 
of  revenge  matures.  After  Petoune's  ludicrous 
wooing  of  Fromaga,  Florida  and  Felecia  (over- 
heard by  Fleire,  Nan,  and  Susan)  induce  their 
accepted  lovers  to  poison  the  two  gallants. 
Fleire  and  the  girl-pages  determine  to  prevent 
the  murder.  The  scene  shifts;  " Enter  Sig- 
nior  Amnio  the  Apothecarie  in  his  shop  with  his 
wares  about  him."  Fleire  appears  in  disguise, 
"in  happie  time,"  for  Alunio  wishes  to  go  to 
Italy  and  needs  some  one  to  look  after  the  shop 
in  his  absence.  Fleire  declares  himself  to  be  a 
Florentine,  and  forthwith  he  is  appointed  to  the 
vacant  position.  Alunio  goes  out,  Sir  John  and 
Piso  come  in,  and  Fleire  sells  them  the  sleeping 
potion  instead  of  the  poison. 

The  fifth  act  comes  at  once  to  the  news  of  the 
gallants'  death  and  the  announcement  of  the 
trial.  Fleire,  by  the  simple  stratagem  of  send- 
ing the  ring  of  an  absent  judge,  imposes  him- 
self on  the  court,  Portia-like;  tries  the  case,  and 
reveals  the  whole  plan  and  his  own  device  for 
preventing  mischief;  and  all  ends  happily, — 
young  Piso,  whose  father,  the  Duke  of  Florence 
has  just  died,  resigning  his  claims  in  favor  of 
Fleire. 

This  rough  abstract  is  not  unjust  to  the  play 
so  far  as  its  plot  is  concerned,  but  it  lays  no 
stress  on  the  brisk  (and  not  usually  quotable) 
dialogue  in  which  consists  the  life  of  the  play. 
Quite  outside  of  the  plot,  for  instance,  is  the 


448  MARTIN  W.  SAMPSON 

satirical  description  by  Spark  and  Ruffell  of  the 
people  they  saw  in  hell  during  the  time  that 
the  sleeping  potion  was  effective.  The  dis- 
tribution of  speeches  throughout  the  play,  it 
should  be  said,  is  notably  good.  The  failure 
to  emphasize  the  motive  for  the  courtesans' 
proffer  of  their  love  to  Spark  and  Ruffell  instead 
of  to  Piso  and  Sir  John,  is  the  main  flaw  in  the 
logic  of  the  plot. 

In  the  British  Museum  copy  of  the  first  edi- 
tion of  the  play,  there  are  ms  alterations  in  a 
seventeenth  century  hand.  Some  one,  it  would 
appear,  had  set  about  improving  the  play,  partly 
by  cuts  in  the  dialogue  but  chiefly  by  omitting 
the  two  characters,  Piso  and  Susan.  This 
change,  which  shows  the  right  dramatic  im- 
patience of  duplicated  characters,  would,  if 
carried  out,  necessitate  some  rewriting  as  well  as 
excision ;  but  the  unknown  reviser  attempts  only 
curtailment,  and  does  not  fully  carry  out  even 
this  intention. 

Besides  the  essential  likeness  of  Fleire  to 
Fawne,  there  are  some  minor  allusions  and  lit- 
tle borrowings  in  the  play.  The  jokes  about 
Petoune's  red  nose  were  better  done  when  the 
nose  was  Bardolph's;  Nan  and  Susan's  talk 
about  their  suitors  remotely  recalls  Portia  and 
Nerissa's  scene;  Fromaga  resembles  Juliet's 
nurse;  there  are  references  to  "Thisbe  in  the 
play,"  and  to  Marlowe's  "pampered  lades  of 
Asia;"  and  now  and  then  belated  euphuism 


THE  PLAYS  OF  SHARPHAM  449 

colors  the  speech.  The  similarity  of  Fleire's 
application  for  employment  to  Kent's  applica- 
tion to  Lear,  and  its  bearing  on  the  date  of 
King  Lear  I  have  commented  on  elsewhere.5  If 
the  similarity  be  admitted,  and  if  Sharpham  be 
regarded  as  the  borrower  from  Snakespeare  and 
not  Shakespeare  from  Sharpham  (a  hardly 
tenable  hypothesis),  then  the  date  hitherto  re- 
garded as  the  latest  possible  for  the  writing  of 
Lear  must  be  moved  forward  several  months, 
from  some  time  before  26  December  1606  (the 
first  recorded  performance  of  Lear)  to  some  time 
before  13  May,  1606,  the  date  of  entry  of  The 
Fleire. 

Cupid's  Whirligig  appeared  in  1607,  1611, 
1616,  and  1630,  dates  that  preserve  a  fairly  close 
parallel  with  the  dates  of  The  Fleiri,  but  that 
warrant  no  definite  conclusion  concerning  author- 
ship. The  first  three  editions  were  printed  for 
Arthur  Johnson,  and  the  fourth  for  R.  Meighen. 
The  relation  of  the  four  editions  to  one  an- 
other is  the  same  as  that  existing  among  the 
four  editions  of  the  other  play;  there  are  no 
changes  of  moment.  The  title  page  of  the 
first  edition  reads: 

Cupids  |  Whirligig.  |  As  it  hath  bene  sundry  times 
Acted  |  by  the  Children  of  the  Kings  Majesties  | 
Reuels.  |  London,  j  Imprinted  by  E.  Allde,  and  are 
to  bee  solde  by  Arthur  |  Iohnson,  at  the  signe  of  the 

6  Mod.  Lang.  Quarterly,  July,  1902,  p.  71. 


450  MARTIN  W.  SAMPSON 

white  Horse,  nere  |  the  great  North  doore  of  Saint 
Paules  Church.  |     1607. 

The  play  is  in  prose  and  verse,  most  of  the 
latter  printed  as  prose;  acts  are  indicated,  scenes 
not;  a  list  of  characters  precedes,  and  a  pro- 
logue follows,  the  author's  dedication,  which  is 
signed  "E:  S."  Besides  these  initials  there  is 
nothing  to  establish  the  authorship  of  the  com- 
edy. Phillips  in  his  Theatrum  Poetarum,  1675, 
ascribed  the  play  to  Thomas  Goffe  (b.  1591 !),  as 
did  Winstanley  in  his  Lives,  1687  ;6  Langbaine, 
1691,  puts  it  among  the  plays  by  unknown 
authors.  The  1 782  Biographia Dramatica  quotes 
the  statement  of  Coxeter  that  an  old  bookseller 
had  told  him  that  the  play  had  been  falsely 
entered  as  Shakespeare's  to  make  it  sell.  (There 
is  no  other  evidence  of  this  rumored  ascription 
to  Shakespeare,  and  the  actual  entry  in  the 
Stationers'  Register — Arber,  iii,  354 —  mentions 
no  author's  name.)  Oldys,  Haslewood,  and 
others,  in  their  ms  annotations  of  Langbaine 
(Br.  M.  copies  of  the  book),  make  no  additional 
mention  of  the  play.  As  far  as  I  know,  it  was 
Stephen  Jones,  in  his  1812  edition  of  the  Biog. 
Dram.,  who  first  said  that  the  play  was  prob- 
ably Sharpham's.     Halliwell  (Diet.  Old  Plays, 

6  Langbaine,  in  the  preface  to  his  Momus  Triumphans, 
explains  that  this  ascription  is  due  to  the  carelessness  of 
Phillips  in  copying  Kirkman's  1671  list,  and  in  attributing 
all  anonymous  plays  to  whatever  author  had  been  mentioned 
immediately  before. 


THE  PLAYS  OF  SHARPHAM  451 

1860)  also  names  Sharpham  as  the  probable 
author.  The  Br.  M.  Catalogue  queries  the  as- 
cription to  Sharpham;  but  the  1836  Catalogue 
of  Malone's  books  in  the  Bodleian  enters  the 
play  (qualified  by  "Anon.")  under  Sharpham's 
name.  Halkett  and  Laing  assign  definitely  to 
Sharpham;  as  does  Fleay,  who  offers  no  proof. 
Greg  (List  of  English  Plays,  1900)  and  Schelling 
(Eliz.  Drama,  1908)  also  make  the  definite  as- 
signment. 

That  the  play  is  by  Sharpham  is  highly  likely, 
— a  number  of  things  point  pretty  clearly  that 
way;  but  the  evidence  is  not  conclusive  beyond 
all  doubt. 

The  dedication  "To  his  much  honoured,  be- 
loued,  respected,  and  iudiciall  friend,  Maister 
Robert  Hayman,"  written  in  antithetic  vein, 
affords  some. reason  for  thinking  E.  S.  to  be 
Edward  Sharpham.  The  Robert  Hayman  re- 
ferred to  can  hardly  be  other  than  the  sometime 
governor  of  the  Harbor-Grace  plantation  in 
Newfoundland,  and  the  author  of  "Quodlibets, 
lately  come  over  from  New  Britaniola,  Old 
Newfound-land.  Epigrams  and  other  small 
parcels.".  .  .  .  (published  1628),  and  of  "Cer- 
taine  Epigrams  out  of  the  first  foure  Bookes  of 
the  excellent  Epigrammatist  Master,  John 
Owen,"  1628  (in  the  volume  translated  from 
Joannes  Owen  are  also  two  "rayling  epistles" 
of  "Rablais").  In  neither  volume  do  I  find 
reference  to  Sharpham.    But,  like  Sharpham, 


452  MARTIN  W.  SAMPSON 

Hay  man  was  a  Devonian  and  an  Inns  of-Court 
man,  having  been  at  Lincoln's  Inn  when  Sharp- 
ham  was  at  the  Middle  Temple.  An  exami- 
nation of  the  play  will  show  other  indications 
of  Sharpham's  probable  authorship. 

The  plot  of  Cupid's  Whirligig,  although  less 
repulsive  than  that  of  The  Fleire,  is  in  detail 
coarser:  a  brief  outline  will  therefore  suffice. 
Sir  Timothy  Troublesome  is  violently,  but 
causelessly,  jealous  of  his  wife,  and  confusedly 
divides  his  time  between  laying  plans  to  prove 
her  infidelity  and  begging  forgiveness  for  his 
baseless  suspicions.  The  Lady  herself  is  much 
annoyed  by  the  persistent  attentions  of  the 
young  Lord  Nonsuch,  who,  repulsed  in  his  own 
person,  vainly  seeks,  through  one  disguise  after 
another,  to  gain  her  favor,  regardless  of  his 
father's  wish  that  he  should  marry  Nan,  the 
Alderman's  daughter.  A  Welshman,  Nuecome, 
seems  to  be  in  love  with  Nan,  who  holds  him  in 
scorn,  but  her  friend  Peg  views  him  with  a  fav- 
orable eye.  Maister  Correction,  a  pedant,  has 
as  wife  an  amiable  bawd,  with  whom  Wages, 
Sir  Timothy's  serving  man,  is  in  love.  Through 
intrigues  and  schemes,  slow  of  movement,  but 
set  forth  in  animated  dialogue,  the  action  finally 
centres  in  the  brisk  scene  which  gives  the  play 
its  title : — Lady  Troublesome  begs  her  husband 
to  overcome  his  jealousy  and  believe  in  her 
faithful  love,  but  in  a  rage  Sir  Timothy  leaves 
her;  the  young  Lord  Nonsuch  enters  and  prof- 


THE  PLAYS  OF  SHARPHAM  453 

fers  once  more  his  pity  and  his  love,  but  the 
Lady  scornfully  goes  out;  Nan  comes  in  and 
frankly  declares  her  love;  but  Nonsuch  runs 
away  from  her;  Nuecome  appears  and  endeavors 
to  woo  her,  but  Nan  flies  from  his  affectionate 
metaphors;  Peg  enters,  but  her  soft  entreaties 
arouse  no  tender  feeling  in  Nuecome,  who  leaves 
the  stage;  and  then  Sir  Timothy  reenters  and 
avows  his  love  to  Peg,  who  bids  him  seek  else- 
where. Cupid  who  from  some  coign  of  van- 
tage has  observed  the  entire  scene,  correctly 
declares  that  his  whirligig  has  swung  completely 
round,  and  that  now  the  right  couples  shall  be 
united.  Through  a  quadruple  masked  wedding 
this  is  brought  about,  and  the  play  ends  with 
the  proper  arrangement  of  lovers  and  spouses, 
only  Wages  being  left  without  a  partner. 

The  play  has  two  points  of  resemblance  to 
The  Fawne, — the  presence  of  Cupid,  and  the 
similarity  of  Sir  Timothy  to  Marston's  Don 
Zuccone.  One  incident  in  the  fourth  act  is 
taken  from  the  Decameron,  vii,  6.7  Sir  Timo- 
thy calls  his  hungry  servant  a  "  pampered  lade" 
for  complaining  (Launcelot  Gobbo  fashion)  of 
his  scanty  food,  and  the  same  knight's  apostro- 
phe to  women  recalls  Hamlet's  "What  a  piece 
of  work  is  a  man!"  Nuecome's  notion  that  he 
has    "a   reasonable   good   legge"    was   antici- 

7  This  very  slight  indebtedness  to  Boccaccio  does  not  war- 
rant Fleay's  remark  that  the  play  is  "founded  on"  the 
Decameron.     Schelling  also  overestimates  the  debt. 


454  MARTIN  W.  SAMPSON 

pated  by  Master  Stephen  in  Every  Man  in  His 
Humour.  An  allusion  to  The  Valiant  Welshman 
is  noted  by  Fleay :  this  play  was  published  in 
1615  and  its  date  of  performance  is  uncertain. 
The  allusion  (Biog.  Chron.  gives  no  reference) 
seems  to  be  only  a  remark  addressed  to  Nue- 
come,  a  Welshman :  "They  say  to,  moste  of  your 
Countriemen  are  verie  valiant"  (Act  ii).  The 
following  image — "The  world  it  selfe  is  but  a 
skillfull  game  at  chesses,  which  beeing  ended, 
Kinges  and  Queenes,  Bishops  and  Knightes  into 
one  bags  (sic)  are  throwne  at  last" — appeared 
in  Jacke  Drums  Entertainment  (1601)  thus: 

"And  after  death  like  Chesmen  hauing  stood 
In  play  for  Bishops,  some  for  Knights,  and  Pawnes, 
We  all  together  shall  be  tumbled  vp,  into  one  bagge — " 

An  interesting  anticipation  of  Burns  occurs  in 
the  second  act: — "Man  was  made  when  nature 
was  but  an  apprentice,  but  woman  when  she 
was  a  skilfull  Mistresse  of  her  Arte." 

The  points  that  Cupid's  Whirligig  has  in  com- 
mon with  The  Fleire  make  reasonable  the  hypo- 
thesis of  one  author  for  the  two  plays.  A  cer- 
tain whimsical  complication  in  the  slow-mov- 
ing plot,  the  mocking  tone  of  the  dialogue,  the 
jests  (i.e.,  those  upon  puritans,  tobacco,  and 
" inns-a-court  men"),  the  coarseness  of  language, 
the  use  of  disguises,  the  sufficiently  obvious 
reminiscences  of  Shakespeare  (cf.  Prof.  Dowden's 
edition  of  Romeo  and  Juliet),  the  unpoetical 
verse,  the  mock-heroic  rant,  the  limited  range 


THE  PLAYS  OF  SHARPHAM  455 

of  the  dramatis  personae, — indicate  one  hand 
rather  than  two.  These  marks,  however,  are 
frequent  enough  in  the  comedy  of  the  time  to 
prevent  the  evidence  from  being  conclusive; 
but,  all  things  considered,  there  is  much  more 
to  say  in  behalf  of  Sharpham's  authorship  of 
Cupid's  Whirligig  than  against  it. 

The  brief  article  in  the  Diet.  Nat.  Biog.  rightly 
casts  doubt  on  the  ascriptions  to  Sharpham  of 
the  verses  signed  "E.  S."  in  Henry  Peacham's 
Minerva  Brittanna:  the  verses  have  nothing  of 
Sharpham's  manner,  so  far  as  it  is  revealed  in 
the  plays.  Among  the  laudatory  verses  pre- 
fixed to  John  Davies'  Humours  Heau'n  on  Earth 
(1605)  is  a  sonnet  signed  "Ed:  Sharphell." 
This,  as  the  D.  N.  B.  says,  may  be  by  Sharpham : 
it  is  certainly  not  unlike  his  style. 


"V 


A  NOTE  ON  THE  VERSE  STRUCTURE 
OF  CAREW 

BY  CHARLES  J.  SEMBOWER,  PH.D. 

Carew  is  perhaps  best  remembered  as  the  first 
master  in  English  of  courtly,  amorous  verse. 
The  aim  of  his  art  is  compliment,  but  compli- 
ment so  skillfully  turned  that  it  may  invite 
the  unembarrassed  scrutiny  of  its  object,  and 
please  insensibly.  It  seems,  in  fact,  to  urge 
a  thing  so  reasonable  that  to  reject  it  as  compli- 
ment is  to  reject  the  truth.  The  tone  of  it, 
meanwhile,  is  of  that  indefinable  vivacity,  that 
gayety  of  spirit  which  can  be  neither  affected 
nor  easily  acquired,  coming,  as  it  does,  from  a 
sincere  desire  to  please. 

Considered  merely  as  an  art,  none  is  more 
difficult.  Upon  an  instrument  of  narrowly 
limited  range,  the  poet  must  achieve,  seemingly 
without  effort,  a  great  variety  of  effects.  He 
must  at  once  be  freely  spontaneous  and  care- 
fully restrained;  he  must  affect  familiar  ease 
of  manner  and  yet  conform  with  delicate  tact 
to  the  established  canons  of  good  taste ;  he  must 
possess  wit  without  pedantry;  and,  though  he 
is  compelled  by  the  premises  of  his  art  to  be 


THE  VERSE  OF  CAREW  457 

faithfully  realistic,  his  appeal  to  self-love  must 
be  refined  of  all  its  grossness.  In  a  word,  the 
coterie  poet  must  be  a  master  in  the  hyperbole 
of  compliment. 

All  this,  and  more, has  been  effected  by  Carew, 
without  resorting  to  the  usual  means  of  attain- 
ing it.  Poets  who  have  succeeded  in  this  art 
of  fanciful  gallantry  have  generally  shown 
great  ingenuity  in  the  invention  of  novel  metri- 
cal forms.  Originality  in  this  respect  has 
served  to  safeguard  them  against  the  inherent 
monotony  of  their  appeal.  But  upon  such 
devices  Carew  depended  scarcely  at  all.  Even 
of  metrical  lightness  and  coquetry,  such  as  is 
found,  for  instance,  in  the  best  verses  of  Suck- 
ling, there  is  very  little.  Indeed,  the  octosylla- 
bics and  pentameters  of  Carew,  admirable  as 
they  are  for  their  exquisite  fineness  and  whole- 
ness of  texture,  seem  at  times,  for  the  purpose 
of  vers  de  societe,  almost  too  sedate. 

.Carew's  stanzaic  structure  is  simple.  The 
most  common  form,  perhaps,  is  the  six- line 
stanza,  riming  ab,  ab,  cc,  of  which  "  Mediocrity 
in  Love  Rejected"  is  a  good  example.  This 
poem  has  but  two  stanzas :  the  first  rimes  ab,  ab, 
giving  a  completed  phase  of  the  appeal,  plus 
the  couplet  cc,  which  has  the  effect  of  epigram- 
matic enforcement;  the  second  is  rimed  ab,  ab, 
cc,  dd,  in  which  the  cc  is  not  this  time  an  epi- 
grammatic enforcement  of  the  ab,  ab,  but  fused 
with  it  by  means  of  an  overflow  of  the  ab,  ab 


458  CHARLES  J.  SEMBOWER 

lines  into  the  couplet.  The  recurrence  of  the 
epigrammatic  theme  is  thus  delayed  for  a  mo- 
ment to  reappear  in  the  concluding  dd  couplet. 
A  very  common  form,  too,  is  a  five-line  stanza, 
ab,  abb;  it  gives  a  neat  and  compact  effect, 
but  otherwise  is  not  found  to  be  of  interest. 
The  quatrain  form,  aa,  bb,  frequently  occurs. 
This  form  is  at  first  a  little  hard  to  understand. 
Why  should  the  couplets  be  printed  in  pairs? 
Upon  second  glance,  however,  the  reason  for 
this  stanzaic  spacing  becomes  plain.  Each  set 
of  four  lines  is  held  together  by  a  unity  both 
grammatical  and  rhetorical,  and  by  unity  of 
structure  and  function  constitutes  a  distinct 
whole.  The  poem  moves  forward  by  fours, 
and  is  frequently  terminated  by  an  epigram- 
matic couplet.  Another  form  is  a  ten-line 
stanza,  as  in  "A  Deposition  from  Love,"  rim- 
ing ab  ab  /  cd  cd  /  ee,  in  which  the  quatrains 
express  distinct  stages  of  the  thought,  linked 
by  the  illative  phrase  'yet  I  believe';  the  con- 
cluding couplet  gives  the  usual  epigrammatic 
reflection.  There  is  also  a  "  sonnet  form"  with 
the  following  rime  scheme,  ab  ba/  ab  ba  /  ab  ba 
/  bb,  which  is,  of  course,  only  a  sonnet  in  the 
sense  of  having  fourteen  lines.  This  brief  ac- 
count of  some  of  the  commoner  stanzaic  forms 
of  Carew  is  intended  merely  to  suggest  what  is 
meant  by  saying  that  with  him  the  stanza  is 
not  an  important  element  of  structure.  It  may 
be  incidentally  remarked  that  the  longer  stanzas 


THE  VERSE  OF  CAREW  459 

are  in  effect  about  midway  between  purely 
stanzaic  effects  and  those  of  the  couplet  and 
blank  verse. 

Likewise,  it  may  be  said  that  Carew  was  far 
from  being  an  originator  in  respect  to  his  em- 
ployment of  the  couplet.  His  couplets  have  a 
stately  onward  movement.  The  cesura  shifts 
gracefully,  and  the  rimes  chime  variously  and 
melodiously,  as  for  instance  in  'Secrecy  Pro- 
tested/ where  'reveal  and  steal'  are  followed  by 
'sun  and  done/  'we  and  he/  'dart  and  heart/ 
'tell  and  dwell/  'out  and  doubt/  'view  and  true/ 
'fear  and  there.'  In  brief,  Carew's  couplets 
are  smooth  and  flexible,  and  in  respect  to  correct- 
ness are  a  distinct  advance  beyond  most  of 
the  verse  of  his  time;  but  even  so,  they  furnish 
only  the  whole  cloth,  so  to  speak,  out  of  which 
his  poems  are  made. 

The  important  aspects  of  Carew's  structure 
are  (1)  variety  in  length  of  line,  (2)  rhetorical 
grouping  of  lines  into  "verse-paragraphs,"  and 
(3)  an  illative  method  of  development  in  the 
construction  of  the  poem  as  a  whole.  These 
three  aspects  of  structure  will  be  briefly  consid- 
ered, by  this  paper,  in  turn. 

Carew's  audience  expected  of  him  ease,  grace, 
and  novelty;  but  at  the  same  time  it  expected 
him  to  expend  in  attaining  these  qualities  no 
more  effort  than  was  in  keeping  with  his  char- 
acter of  gentleman  and  courtier.  In  attempting 
to  adapt  himself  to  these  conditions  of  his  art, 


460  CHARLES  J.  SEMBOWER 

he  did  not  resort  as  we  have  seen  to  variety  of 
metrical  effects  or  to  intricate  stanzaic  struc- 
ture. He  did,  however,  for  the  sake  of  variety, 
resort  to  the  simple  device  of  varying  the  length 
of  line.  Thus,  he  gave  himself  more  scope  both 
for  variety  of  movement  and  for  a  more  fre- 
quently recurrent  echo  of  rime.  At  times,  it 
must  be  admitted,  the  effect  seems  hardly 
organic;  it  is  rather  that  of  variety  merely  for 
the  sake  of  variety,  as  in  the  following  stanza, 
which  is  scarcely  more  than  a  group  of  octosyl- 
labic couplets  varied  by  shortening  the  third  and 
seventh  lines,  and  by  lengthening  the  fourth 
and  eighth: 

"O  think  not,  Phoebe,  'cause  a  cloud 

Doth  now  thy  silver  brightness  shroud, 
My    wand'ring   eye 
Can  stoop  to  common  beauties  of  the  sky. 
Rather  be  kind,  and  this  eclipse 
Shall  neither  hinder  eye  nor  lips; 
For  we  shall  meet 
Within  our  hearts,  and  kiss,  and  none  shall  see't." 

Here,  in  a  sense,  is  variety  of  movement ;  but 
a  variety  which  as  such  is  not  organically  ex- 
pressive. As  one  turns  page  after  page,  variety 
even  of  this  kind  is  pleasant  enough  with  its 
appearance  of  newness  and  promise  of  relief; 
but  nevertheless  this  refreshment  does  not  in 
the  end  justify  itself.  The  reader's  eye  and  ear 
are  relieved  for  the  moment,  but  he  soon  finds 
that  a  monotonous  adjustment  of  attention  is 
required  of  him  in  spite  of  the  apparent  dif- 


THE  VERSE  OF  CAREW  461 

ference  of  appeal.  When,  however,  the  variety 
is  really  organic  and  the  attention — by  the  help 
of  the  form — makes  a  new  adjustment,  and 
finds  the  new  music  the  harmony  of  a  new 
meaning,  the  artisti£3ense  is  at  once  refreshed 
and  satisfied.  This  is  what,  at  his  best,  Carew 
does.  To  illustrate  this  point,  let  us  take 
"Love's  Courtship."  It  will  be  found  in  this 
instance,  I  think,  that  the  variation  of  length 
of  line  justifies  itself  immediately,  because  its 
function  is  organic: 

Kiss,    lovely  Celia,  and  be  kind; 
Let  my  desires  freedom  find, 

Sit   thee   down, 
And  we  will  make  the  gods  confess 
Mortals  enjoy  some  happiness. 

Mars  would  disdain  his  mistress'  charms 
If  he  beheld  thee  in  my  arms, 

And  descend, 
Thee  his  mortal  queen  to  make: 
Or  live  as  mortal  for  thy  sake. 


\ 


Venus  must  lose  her  title  now, 
And  leave  to  brag  of  Cupid's  bow; 

Silly  Queen! 
She  hath  but  one,  but  I  can  spy 
Ten  thousand  Cupids  in  thy  eye. 

Nor  may  the  sun  behold  our  bliss, 
For  sure  thy  eyes  do  dazzle  his; 

If  thou  fear 
That  he'll  betray  thee  with  his  light, 
Let  me  eclipse  thee  from  his  sight! 


462  CHARLES  J.  SEMBOWER 

And  while  I  shade  thee  from  his  eye 
Oh!  let  me  hear  thee  gently  cry, 
Celia   yields!  etc. 

In  this  case  each  of  the  short  lines  suggests 
•southing  pertinent  to  the  general  effect,  from 
the  brevity  of  "Sit  thee  down"  and  the  arch- 
ness of  "Silly  Queen!"  to  the  sudden  delight  of 
"Celia  yields!" 

We  may  now  turn  to  the  second  important 
element  in  Carew's  structure,  the  "verse-para- 
graphs," for  illustration  taking  one  of  his  best 
known  poems,  "Persuasions  to  Love."  Here 
the  structure  seems  at  first  glance  to  be  merely 
that  of  successive  octosyllabic  couplets.  But 
upon  closer  reading  the  couplets  are  found  to 
group  themselves  into  skillfully  built  up  para- 
graphs.   The  first,  beginning, 

Think  not,  'cause  men  flattering  say 
You're  fresh  as  April,  sweet  as  May, 
Bright  as  is  the  morning  star, 
That  you  are  so; 

argues  through  logical  stages  dealing  with  the 
inadvisability  of  pride,  and  of  niggardliness 
with  the  beauty  that  is  given  the  lady  to  be 
enjoyed,  to  the  conclusion  that 

'twere  a  madness  not  to  grant 
That  which  affords  (if  you  consent) 
To  you,  the  giver,  more  content 
Than  me,  the  beggar. 


THE  VERSE  OF  CAREW  463 

And  the  next  stave,  beginning, 

Oh,  then  be 

Kind  to  yourself,  if  not  to  me. 

presses  home  this  phase  of  the  argument  in 
twelve  lines  of  amplification  which  is  easy, 
graceful,  and  logically  developed.  It  is  not 
difficult  in  some  of  these  " verse-paragraphs" 
to  get  the  gist  of  the  meaning,  as  in  certain 
of  the  best  prose-paragraphs — say  Burke's — 
by  reading  the  first  and  last  fines  of  the  group. 
Indeed,  in  the  verse  of  Carew — and  this 
brings  us  to  the  third  element  of  his  verse- 
structure — the  reader  constantly  feels  the  at- 
traction and  interest  of  progress,  step  by  step, 
^oward  a  goal.  As  the  eye  runs  along  the  page, 
.v  is  arrested  at  the  beginning  of  the  staves,  or 
"  verse-paragraphs,"  by  such  conjunctions,  and 
conjunctive  phrases  as  the  following:  "Then 
had  you  reason,"  "  Thereby  make  me  to  pine," 
"For  that  same  lovely  face  will  fail,"  "O  love 
me,  then,  and  now  begin  it,"  "Then  wisely 
choose  one  for  your  friend,"  "For  when  the 
storms  of  time  have  moved,"  "0  then,  be  wise, 
and  whilst  your  season,"  "Yet,  I  confess,  I 
cannot  spare,"  "Though  these  be  powerful 
arguments  to  prove  I  love  in  vain,  yet  I  must 
ever  love,"  "Now  hear,  just  Judge,  an  act  of 
savageness,"  "Thus  hath  this  cruel  lady  used 
a  true  servant."  These  instances  might  be 
extended   almost  indefinitely.     The   effect   of 


464  CHARLES  J.  SEMBOWER 

reasonable  argument  suggested  by  them  is  at 
once  obvious  and  significant.  It  helps  to  abate 
the  purely  personal  element  in  compliment,  while 
at  the  same  time,  it  heightens  the  flavour  of 
self-love,  and  prolongs  pleasant  self-contem- 
plation. This  inferential  method  of  develop- 
ing the  whole  poem  was  new  to  English  verse, 
at  least  in  the  degree  in  which  Carew  employed 
it,  when  he  began  to  write.  The  Elizabethans 
had  been  "sweet, ' ' — consciously  and  deliberate- 
ly poetical ;  and  in  this  respect  they  and  Carew 
are  not  unlike.  But,  though  there  are  traces 
of  the  illative  method  in  the  Elizabethans,  and 
more  than  merely  traces  in  some  of  Carew's 
contemporaries,  yet  on  the  whole  these  poets 
give  rather  the  impression  of  being  impulsive 
and  spontaneous  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  those 
words.  They  jet  forth,  so  to  speak,  feathery 
sprays  of  sentiment  that  alternately  burst  out 
and  subside.  The  element  of  variety  in  their 
lyrics  (I  speak  in  very  general  terms)  is  that 
given — to  continue  the  figure — by  the  shifting 
of  the  breeze,  or  by  a  chance  play  of  light  and 
shadow.  Such  a  fountain  may  be  watched  for 
a  moment  with  real  interest — its  elusive  grace 
attracts  again  and  again, — but  if  one  sits  before 
it  for  an  hour's  entertainment,  its  beauty 
becomes  monotonous.  This  is  not  so  in  the  case 
of  Carew.  His  method  is  not  the  best,  perhaps, 
for  the  expression  of  a  "lyrical  cry,"  nor,  indeed 
for  the  expression  of  lyrical  feeling  from  any 


THE  VERSE  OF  CAREW  465 

very  deep  source.  Such  lyrical  feeling  wells 
up  spontaneously  from  the  innermost  depths  of 
personality.  Its  source  is  the  source  of  life 
itself;  and  it  most  tellingly  embodies  itself  in 
forms  correspondingly  unmethodical  and  free. 
But  the  intellect,  too,  has  its  desire  for  play,  and 
sometimes  wishes  the  fancy  to  give  way  to  it  for 
a  moment,  as  too  often — take  poetry  all  in  all — 
the  intellect  has  had,  in  the  name  of  spontaneity, 
to  give  place  to  what  may  claim  to  be  lyrical 
only  because  it  is  the  very  caprice  of  willfulness. 
Carew's  moments  of  the  deepest  inspiration 
are  rare.  But  he  is  a  true  'poet  none  the  less, 
and  he  shows  it  most  in  recognizing  his  limita- 
tions and  in  developing  his  art  within  them. 
In  this  regard  he  is,  I  think,  not  unlike  two  of 
his  French  contemporaries,  Malherbe  and  Voi- 
ture.  Anyone  fresh  from  reading  these  lyrists 
across  the  Channel  will  hardly  question  this 
assertion.  Like  Carew,  they  are  adepts  in 
the  art  of  poetical  compliment,  and  it  may  be 
that  they  helped  him  in  more  ways  than  one . — in 
the  choice  of  right  material,  \j)erhaps,  and  in 
striking  the  true^note  in  the  treatment  of  it. 
And  both,  but  Malherbe  in  particular,  in  affect- 
ing to  compel  assent  to  their  flattery,  assume 
that  air  of  reasonableness  which  has  been  spoken 
of  in  connection  with  Carew.  As  an  example 
of  this  manner  in  Malherbe,  we  may  take  his 
"Epigramme,  Writ  in  Calista's  Prayer  Book." 


466  CHARLES  J.  SEMBOWER 

Tant  que  vous  serez  sans  amour, 
Calista,  priez  nuit  et  jour, 
Vous  n'aurez  point  misericorde; 
Ce  n'est  pas  que  Dieu  ne  soit  doux: 
Mais  pensez-vous  qu'il  vous  accorde 
Ce  qu'on  ne  peut  de  vous? 

If  Carew's  range  is  narrow,  he  achieves  in 
spite  of  it  what  is  a  very  difficult  artistic  success, 
the  avoidance  of  satiety  while  keeping  within 
a  small  circle  of  interests,  and  that,  too  with  no 
evidence  of  effort  beyond  what  is  pleasurably 
inherent  in  the  limitations  of  his  art.  And  he 
succeeds  in  it  mainly,  I  think,  by  means  of  this 
pseudo-logical  appeal.  To  be  sure,  the  silken 
smoothness  of  his  versification,  the  winning 
grace  of  his  cesural  and  line  variations,  the  chim- 
ing of  his  melodious  rime,  are  to  be  taken  into 
account  in  trying  to  define  the  full  strength  of 
his  appeal.  But  his  choicest  effect,  perhaps, 
and  the  one  most  peculiarly  his  own,  is  that 
arch  pretense  of  logic  which,  step  by  step, 
shows  the  amorous  acceptance  to  be  a  matter 
of  necessity.  It  is  the  intellect  decking  itself 
in  the  garb  of  fancy;  the  illative  sense  at  play 
with  sentiment. 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  GHOST  IN 

HAMLET 

BY  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR.,  PH.D. 

Hamlet  holds  a  unique  position  among  Shake 
speare's  plays  by  reason  of  the  challenge  which 
it  has  offered  to  interpretation.  As  a  whole 
and  in  its  details  the  play  has  been  the  subject 
of  more  discussion  than  any  other  of  its  author's 
works.  The  judgments  passed  upon  Hamlet's 
conduct  have  been  of  the  most  diverse  kind, 
and  correspondingly  diverse  theories  have  been 
formulated  to  account  for  his  delay  in  carrying 
out  his  task,  or  to  disprove  that  such  delay 
exists.  Not  a  few  students  of  the  tragedy, 
among  whom  may  be  mentioned  J.  Halliwell- 
Phillipps  {Memoranda  on  Hamlet,  1879,  pp. 
6-7),  have  after  long  study  expressed  their 
conviction  that  the  mystery  of  the  play  is 
insoluble. 

Since  modern  research  has  tended  to  lend 
support  to  the  hypothesis  that  Hamlet,  in  its 
received  form,  represents  Shakespeare's  revi- 
sion and  expansion  of  a  first  draft  (represented 
imperfectly  by  the  First  Quarto,  1603),  itself 
a  rewriting  of  a  lost  play  by  Thomas  Kyd, 


468  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR. 

other  students,  of  whom  one  of  the  latest  is 
Professor  C.  M.  Lewis  (The  Genesis  of  Hamlet, 
1907),    have    frankly    admitted    the  inconsis- 
tencies of  the  text,   accounting  for  them  as 
resulting  from   the   presence   in   the  play   of 
inharmonious  material  retained  from  the  ori- 
ginal source  and  from  Shakespeare's  first  ver- 
sion.   No  attempt  to  formulate  a  comprehen- 
sive  explanation   of   Hamlet's   conduct,   from 
that  of  Goethe  in  1795  to  the  latest  with  which 
I  am  acquainted,   that  of  Dr.   Ernest  Jones 
(The   American   Journal   of  Psychology,   Jan., 
1910),  has  been  generally  accepted  as  satis- 
factorily accounting  for  everything  in  the  play. 
Consciously  or   unconsciously,    all  the   critics 
disregard  some  of  the  data.    Professor  Lewis, 
for  example,  deems  it  justifiable  to  disregard, 
in  estimating  Hamlet's  character,  such  details 
as  the  sending  of  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern 
to  their  death,  as  Hamlet's  remark  about  "per- 
fect conscience,"  as  his  soliloquy  on  meeting  the 
troops  of  Fortinbras.   "The  composite  Hamlet  is 
not  an  entity  at  all,  and  therefore  not  a  subject 
for  psychological  analysis"  (p.  133).    Whether 
or  not  the  reader  is  prepared  to  go  quite  so 
far  as  this,  he  will,  I  think,  be  ready  to  concede 
that   the    main    desideratum    in    interpreting 
Hamlet  is  not  to  provide  an  answer  for  every 
difficult  question  that  may  be  asked  in  connec- 
tion with  the  play,  but  to  discover,  if  that  be 
possible,  how  Shakespeare  intended  his  hero's 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  469 

course  of  action  to  be  regarded.  And  if  the 
reader  will  concede  that  the  data  afforded 
by  the  text  are  partly  irreconcilable,1  he  will 
agree  that  the  question  at  once  arises,  which 
of  these  data  are  to  be  considered  as  bevond 
question  significant. 

In  the  opinion  of  the  present  writer,  critics 
have  hitherto,  as  a  rule,  overlooked  the  peculiar 
importance,  in  this  connection,  to  be  attributed 
to  the  utterances  of  the  ghost.  Nowhere  have 
I  seen  it  affirmed  that  the  first  step  in  the  inter- 
pretation of  Hamlet  is  to  scrutinize  the  actions 
and  utterances  of  the  ghost,  to  note  what  it 
does  and  what  it  leaves  undone,  what  it  says 
and  what  it  refrains  from  saying,  and  to  regard 
the  results  of  such  scrutiny  as  the  fundamental 
data  of  the  play.  True,  in  the  course  of  the  con- 
stant study  to  which  the  play  has  been  subjected, 
the  words  of  the  ghost  have  not  escaped  notice, 
and  his  attitude  towards  Hamlet  and  his  lan- 
guage have  been  cited  in  evidence  of  particular 
views.  Thus  Mr.  Bradley  says,  with  perfect 
justice  {Shakespearean  Tragedy,  p.  100),  " Surely 
it  is  clear  that,  whatever  we  in  the  twentieth 
century  may  think  about  Hamlet's  duty,  we 


1  "Again  it  may  be  held  without  any  improbability  that, 
from  carelessness  or  because  he  was  engaged  on  this  play 
for  several  years,  Shakespeare  left  inconsistencies  in  his 
exhibition  of  the  character  which  must  prevent  us  from  being 
certain  of  his  ultimate  meaning."  A.  C.  Bradley,  Shake- 
spearean Tragedy,  p.  93. 


470  WILLIAM  STRTJNK,  JR. 

are  meant  in  the  play  to  assume  that  he  ought 
to  have  obeyed  the  Ghost;"  and  again  (p.  139), 
"We  construe  the  Ghost's  interpretation  of 
Hamlet's  delay  ('almost  blunted  purpose')  as 
the  truth,  the  dramatist's  own  interpretation." 
Dr.  Francis  Maurice  Egan's  essay  (The  Ghost 
in  Hamlet,  1906)  stands  by  itself  as  a  discrimi- 
nating study  in  which  the  ghost  is  constantly 
kept  in  the  foreground.  The  distinction,  how- 
ever, which  Dr.  Egan  draws  between  the 
exalted  mission  of  the  ghost,  seeking  only  the 
salvation  of  Denmark  and  the  preservation  of 
his  royal  line,  and  Hamlet's  sinful  eagerness  to 
exact  vengeance  by  returning  evil  for  evil,  is 
one  which  I  have  difficulty  in  reading  into  the 
play.  Still  less  can  I  see  in  this  the  chief 
concern  of  the  play,  and  the  cause  of  Hamlet's 
failure. 

The  play  of  Hamlet  is  characterized  not  merely 
by  the  presence  of  a  supernatural  being  among 
its  persons,  but  by  the  actual  participation  of 
this  supernatural  being  in  the  action.2  Unlike 
the  ghost  of  Andrea  in  The  Spanish  Tragedie, 
a  mere  spectator  of  the  mortal  struggle  in 
which  his  enemies  perish,  the  ghost  of  Hamlet's 
father  concerns  himself  practically  in  the  scheme 

2  I  am  taking  it  for  granted,  in  this  paper,  that  the  ghost 
is  intended  by  Shakespeare  as  a  genuine  apparition,  and  not 
as  a  hallucination.  This  is  so  apparent  that  Professor  Stoll 
(The  Objectivity  of  the  Ghosts  in  Shakespeare,  Publications 
of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America,  N.S.  xv.  203) 
regards  it  as  a  point  not  calling  for  demonstration.  The 
opposite  opinion  has  been  maintained  with  great  ingenuity 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  471 

of  revenge.  He  communicates  to  Hamlet  infor- 
mation which  could  have  reached  the  Prince 
by  no  other  channel,  he  demands  revenge,  pre- 
scribes in  part  the  conditions  of  this  revenge,  and 
reappears  to  reprove  the  instrument  of  his 
revenge  for  lack  of  zeal.  His  supernatural 
quality  places  his  words  and  actions  in  a  cate- 
gory by  themselves,  by  reason  of  which,  above 
and  beyond  all  else  to  be  found  in  the  play, 
they  enable  us  to  determine  the  dramatist's 
underlying  conceptions  of  situation  and  charac- 
ter. I  purpose  justifying  this  view,  and  then 
pointing  out  some  of  the  obvious  consequences, 
if  we  apply  it  as  a  working  principle. 

Whether  or  not  infallibility  can  be  attributed 
to  the  ghost,  it  cannot  be  attributed  to  the 
mortal  characters  of  the  play.  Students  of  the 
play  cannot  agree  whether  certain  speeches 
(as,  "He  weeps  for  what  is  done,"  iv.  i.  27)  are 
to  be  taken  as  truth  or  falsehood;  whether 
certain  of  Hamlet's  doubts  and  hesitations  (as 
his  doubt  of  the  genuineness  of  the  ghost,  n.  ii. 
628;  his  fear  of  sending  his  uncle  to  heaven, 
in.  iii.  74)  are  real  or  feigned  or  the  result  of 
self-deception.  In  the  utterances  of  the  char- 
by  N.  R.  D'Alfonso  (Lo  Spettro  dell'  Amleto,  Rivista  Ita- 
liana  di  Filosofia,  anno  viii,  i.  358),  but  his  analysis  simply 
confirms  in  detail  what  Lessing  had  long  since  pointed  out 
in  a  general  way  (Hamburgische  Dramaturgie  xi),  namely, 
that  the  circumstances  of  the  ghost's  appearance  are  in  per- 
fect conformity  with  the  accepted  notions  of  the  behavior  of 
ghosts. 


472  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR. 

acters  other  than  the  ghost,  we  meet  frequently 
with  conscious  deceit  (lying  and  hypocrisy, 
dissembling  and  the  feigning  of  madness), 
self-deception  (particularly  in  the  case  of  Ham- 
let), and  constantly  with  the  limitations  arising 
from  fallible  judgment,  lack  of  information,  or 
similar  causes.  Of  the  human  characters,  Hora- 
tio, indeed,  displays  honesty,  sincerity,  and 
common  sense,  but  admirable  as  he  is,  there 
seems  to  be  a  general  agreement  that  his  more 
prosaic  nature  fails  to  understand  that  of  Ham- 
let. Further,  Horatio  is  comparatively  taci- 
turn; he  largely  keeps  his  opinions  to  himself. 
Barring  his  seeming  disapproval  of  Hamlet's 
way  with  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  his 
tardy  remonstrance  in  the  scene  at  Ophelia's 
grave,  and  his  attempt  to  dissuade  Hamlet 
from  the  fencing-match,  Horatio  seems  to  be 
ready  to  acquiesce  in  any  opinion  or  action  of 
Hamlet,  once  the  story  of  the  ghost  has  been 
repeated  to  him.  It  would  be  difficult  to  main- 
tain that  he  is  intended  to  be  Shakespeare's 
mouthpiece.  None  of  the  human  characters 
in  the  play  sees  the  action  steadily  and  sees  it 
whole. 

But  do  these  limitations  apply  to  the  ghost, 
a  supernatural  being?  Is  he  liable  to  error,  to 
prejudice?  Can  he  deceive  others,  or  be  him- 
self deceived?  The  answer  is  best  found  by 
examining  Shakespeare's  practice  with  regard 
to  similar  beings  in  other  plays.    We  find  that 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  473 

in  Richard  III,  in  Julius  Ccesar,  in  Macbeth,  in 
Cymbeline,  in  The  Winter's  Tale  (the  oracle), 
the  supernatural  beings,  however  diverse  their 
nature,  are  alike  in  certain  respects.  They  have 
sources  of  information  denied  to  mortals.  They 
are  free  from  the  encumbrances  of  mortal  frailty, 
and  so  far  as  they  take  upon  themselves  the 
responsibility  of  speech  and  action,  they  possess 
virtual  infallibility.  The  fairies  of  A  Midsum- 
mer-Night's Dream  make  ludicrous  blunders, 
it  is  true,  and  show  a  plentiful  lack  of  wisdom, 
but  this  is  a  comic  phantasy.  In  The  Tempest 
again,  the  spirits  are  not  free  agents;  it  is  Pro- 
spero  in  whom  the  supernatural  power  is  really 
centered.  But  in  serious  actions  Shakespeare 
regularly  represents  the  utterances  of  super- 
natural beings,  when  they  appear  on  their  own 
initiative,  as  possessing  two  characteristics: 
perfect  truth  (though  the  form  of  the  state- 
ment may  be  such  as  to  mislead  erring  mortals), 
and,  so  far  as  the  purpose  of  the  speaker  is 
concerned,  sufficiency  for  the  end  proposed. 
The  ghost,  therefore,  may  be  regarded,  with- 
in reasonable  limitations,  as  sharing  this  infalli- 
bility. He  has  passed  beyond  the  possibility  of 
mortal  errors  of  judgment;  he  has  sources  of 
knowledge  in  which  mortals  have  no  part. 
He  returns  to  earth  from  purgatory,  not  from 
heaven,  for  that  would  be  incongruous  with 
his  demand  for  revenge;  not  from  hell,  for  that 
would  be  incompatible  with  Hamlet's  duty  to 


474  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR. 

obey  him.  It  may  be  pointed  out  that  he  knows 
the  circumstances  of  his  murder,  though  he  was 
asleep  when  it  was  committed.  Though  there 
would  have  been  no  propriety  in  making  him 
omniscient  and  omnipotent,  he  is,  so  far  as 
concerns  his  own  aims;  all-sufficient  both  in 
knowledge  and  in  judgment.  He  may  have  no 
minute  prophetic  knowledge  of  the  future,  but 
he  knows  when  intervention  is  necessary  and 
when  he  may  safely  trust  Hamlet  to  attain  re- 
venge without  further  admonition.  So  far  as 
his  words  throw  light  upon  the  nature  of  Ham- 
let's task,  upon  Hamlet's  character,  upon  the 
efficiency  with  which  Hamlet  performs  his  task, 
they  have  an  authority,  and  must  have  been 
intended  by  Shakespeare  to  have  an  authority, 
which  gives  them  precedence  over  all  the  other 
data  afforded  by  the  play.  Like  Hamlet,  we 
may  say,  "It  is  an  honest  ghost,"  and  "take 
the  ghost's  word  for  a  thousand  pound."  The 
words  and  actions  of  the  ghost  in  many  cases 
furnish  the  test  by  which  we  may  determine 
the  truth  or  falsity  of  the  indications  afforded 
by  the  other  characters  in  the  play. 

One  qualification  must  be  made.  In  the  at- 
tempt to  attach  significance  to  all  that  the 
ghost  does  and  says,  we  must  not  overlook  the 
requirements  of  dramatic  structure.  I  would 
not  argue  for  a  hidden  meaning  in  the  circum- 
stance that  instead  of  appearing  in  Hamlet's 
bedchamber  shortly  after  the  murder,  it  waits 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  475 

nearly  two  months  and  then  appears  first  to  the 
guards  without  the  palace.  The  exposition  here 
is  similar  to  that  in  Macbeth,  the  first,  second, 
and  fourth  scenes  of  Hamlet  fulfilling  the  same 
functions  as  the  first  three  of  Macbeth.  That  the 
scene  in  which  Hamlet  and  the  ghost  meet  may 
make  the  proper  impression,  Shakespeare  pre- 
pares for  it  by  scenes  in  which  these  two  char- 
acters are  separately  presented  to  us.  Simi- 
larly, the  ghost's  beckoning  Hamlet  away 
(i.  iv)  leads  to  a  demonstration  of  his  courage, 
part  of  the  preliminary  exposition  of  his  charac- 
ter, and  provides  a  means  of  temporarily  re- 
moving Horatio  and  Marcellus,  in  order  that  the 
interest  may  be  concentrated  upon  the  ghost's 
revelation  and  upon  the  manner  in  which  Ham- 
let receives  it.  Nor  would  I  lay  stress  upon  the 
ghost's  insistence  that  Horatio  and  Marcellus 
swear  upon  Hamlet's  sword.  Mysterious  and 
impressive  as  the  ghostly  voice  from  below 
sounds  in  actual  performance,  its  effectiveness  is 
rather  theatrical  than  dramatic.  Even  Coleridge 
admitted  that  "these  subterraneous  speeches  of 
the  ghost  are  hardly  defensible."  Coleridge, 
however,  undertook  to  demonstrate  the  pro- 
priety of  Hamlet's  own  share  in  the  scene,  and 
Mr.  Bradley  (pp.  412-413)  gives  his  reasons 
for  accepting  the  part  taken  by  the  ghost  as 
Shakespearean  in  spirit,  and  not  merely  con- 
descension to  the  groundlings.  I  still  believe 
that  in  the  conduct  of  this  part  of  the  scene, 


476  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR. 

Shakespeare  did  not  feel  himself  free  to  depart 
widely  from  his  original.  The  four  speeches  of 
the  ghost  beneath  the  stage,  resulting  in  Ham- 
let's removal  from  one  side  of  the  stage  to  the 
other,  have  their  counterpart  in  Fratricide 
Punished  (Furness  ii.  125-126),  and  hence,  in 
the  opinion  of  some,  were  a  feature  of  the  pre- 
Shakespearean  version.  The  issue  of  secrecy 
is  never  again  raised.  Marcellus  is  no  more 
heard  of,  and  Horatio  is  the  most  loyal  of  con- 
fidants. The  first  oath,  "In  faith,  my  lord,  not 
I,"  was  really  sufficient.  We  can,  however,  see 
a  reason  why  the  ghost  should  approve  of  Ham- 
let's swearing  his  friends  to  secrecy:  this  indi- 
cates Hamlet's  purpose  of  undertaking  the 
revenge  himself  and  of  carrying  it  out  with  his 
own  hand. 

But  with  these  minor  exceptions,  occasioned 
by  the  dramatic  form  and  by  the  established 
tradition  among  playgoers,  we  may  look  to  the 
words  and  actions  of  the  ghost  as  our  sole  in- 
fallible guide  in  interpreting  the  play.  What 
indications  do  these  afford? 

The  ghost's  command  to  Hamlet  is  threefold 
(Ransome,  Shakespeare's  Plots,  p.  12) : 

If  thou  didst  ever  thy  dear  father  love — 

Revenge  his  foul  and  most  unnatural  murder. 
But  howsoever  thou  pursuest  this  act, 

Taint  not  thy  mind,  nor  let  thy  soul  contrive 
Against  thy  mother  aught. 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  477 

In  the  first  place,  he  demands  revenge.  Is  it 
too  much  to  say  that  the  mere  fact  of  his  de- 
manding it  is  significant?  Suppose  the  ghost 
had  merely  told  Hamlet  of  the  murder,  what 
would  have  happened?  Again,  the  ghost  does 
not  demand  immediate  revenge,  nor  does  he 
specify  the  form.  The  act  may  be  pursued  as 
Hamlet  thinks  best.  And  to  Shakespeare's 
audiences  there  could  be  no  possible  doubt  as 
to  the  meaning  of  " revenge."  Violent  death, 
at  Hamlet's  hands,  no  more  and  no  less,  is 
what  the  ghost  demands.  The  ingenious  theory 
of  Werder,  according  to  which  Hamlet's  duty 
was  to  defer  vengeance  until  he  was  in  a  posi- 
tion to  convince  all  Denmark  that  it  was  right- 
eously taken,  finds  no  support  in  the  ghost's 
words.  As  one  of  Werder's  earliest  critics, 
Baumgart  (Furness  ii.  392-393),  pointed  out, 
the  ghost  says  nothing  of  unmasking  the  king, 
of  bringing  him  to  the  bar  of  justice:  "It  is 
revenge  alone  that  the  ghost  calls  for,  and 
swift  revenge  that  Hamlet  promises."  The 
greater  part  of  the  fine-spun  argument  of  Wer- 
der is  refuted  by  this  simple  consideration. 
And  the  chief  test  to  be  applied  to  Hamlet's 
conduct  throughout  the  play  is  simply,  with 
what  degree  of  efficiency  and  fidelity  does  he 
devote  himself  to  this  sacred  duty. 

The  next  point  in  the  ghost's  command  is, 
"Taint  not  thy  mind."  This  has,  I  think,  been 
commonly  taken  to  mean  that  in  pursuing  his 


478  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR. 

revenge,  Hamlet  is  not  to  behave  unworthily, 
to  blemish  his  character,  or  perhaps,  that  he  is 
not  to  destroy  his  good  name.  As  Mr.  Ransome 
puts  it  (p.  12),  "the  punishment  of  the  murderer 
was  to  be  effected  in  such  a  way  that  the  pro- 
priety of  Hamlet's  conduct  in  the  matter  should 
be  evident."  According  to  this  interpretation, 
Hamlet's  words  (v.  ii.  355-356), 

0  good  Horatio,  what  a  wounded  name, 
Things  standing  thus  unknown,  shall  live  behind 
me, 

may  be  taken  as  uttered  in  distinct  remem- 
brance of  the  ghost's  injunction.  But  this 
interpretation,  which  seems  to  lend  support 
to  the  mistaken  view  that  Hamlet  must  pub- 
licly demonstrate  his  uncle's  guilt  before 
taking  vengeance  upon  him,  I  believe  to  be  in- 
correct. The  words,  " Taint  not  thy  mind," 
are  immediately  connected  with  those  which 
follow,  "Nor  let  thy  soul  contrive  against  thy 
mother  aught."  The  reference  is  to  the  melan- 
choly, occasioned  by  the  disgrace  of  his  mother's 
incestuous  marriage,  which  has  already  brought 
Hamlet  to  the  point  of  meditating  suicide 
(i.  ii.  131-132).  This  melancholy  Hamlet  is 
bidden  to  overcome.  "Do  not  brood  over  thy 
griefs;  do  not  yield  to  melancholy,"  is  the  true 
meaning  of  the  ghost's  words.3    The  conjunc- 

'  This  is  taking  the  word  "mind"  in  its  most  natural  and 
usual  sense.  The  expression,  "a  tainted  mind,"  would  be 
closely  similar  to  Spenser's  expression  (Faerie  Queene  iv. 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  479 

tion  "nor"  emphasizes  the  close  connection 
between  this  part  of  the  command  and  that 
which  follows,  for  it  is  precisely  this  brooding 
upon  his  mother's  conduct  that  might  lead  him 
to  seek  some  means  of  involving  her  in  her 
husband's  punishment.  The  view  which  these 
words  really  support  is  not  that  of  Werder, 
but  that  of  Mr.  Bradley.  They  also  afford 
another  test  by  which  to  appraise  Hamlet's 
subsequent  conduct. 

The  prohibition  of  any  attempt  to  punish 
his  mother  affords  another  test  of  Hamlet's 
later  action,  one  so  easy  to  apply  that  nothing 
further  need  be  said  here.  The  ghost's  de- 
scription of  himself  as 

Cut  off  even  in  the  blossoms  of  [his]  sin, 
Unhousel'd,   disappointed,   unanel'd, 
No  reckoning  made,   but  sent  to   [his]   account 
With  all  [his]  imperfections  on  [his]  head, 

indicates  clearly  that  Hamlet's  belief  (in.  iii. 
73  ff .)  in  the  significance  of  the  last  occupation 
of  a  man  suddenly  killed  is  not  meant  by  Shake- 
speare to  pass  as  pure  folly.  More  will  be  said 
of  this  later  on.  I  agree  also  with  Mr.  Bradley 
(p.  126)  that  "the  Ghost,  in  fact,  had  more 

i.  vii.  4),  "her  wounded  mind,"  used  with  reference  to  Brito- 
mart,  who  is  in  love  with  Artegall.  The  mind  may  be 
"tainted"  by  melancholy,  just  as  it  may  be  "wounded" 
by  love.  It  also  seems  more  likely  that  the  ghost  should 
be  concerning  himself  with  a  matter  of  present  importance, 
than  with  a  future  contingency. 


480  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR. 

reason  than  we  suppose  at  first  for  leaving  with 
Hamlet  as  his  parting  injunction  the  command, 
'Remember  me/  and  for  greeting  him,  on  re- 
appearing, with  the  command, '  Do  not  forget.' " 
Hamlet's  conduct  from  the  beginning  of  the 
second  act  is  to  be  examined  in  the  light  of 
the  ghost's  commands,  literally  interpreted. 
His  feigning  of  madness,  I  should  say,  may  be 
held  to  be  sanctioned  by  the  ghost's  expres- 
sion, " howsoever  thou  pursuest  this  act."  But 
the  whole  scheme  of  catching  the  conscience 
of  the  king  by  means  of  the  play  must  be 
pronounced  an  inexcusable  deviation  from  the 
path  marked  out  for  him.  His  recognition  of 
the  ghost  as  his  father's  spirit  has  been  complete. 
The  play  is  merely  a  pretext,  which  enables 
Hamlet  to  feel  that  he  is  doing  something  relat- 
ing to  his  revenge,  and  thus  to  excuse  himself 
for  putting  off  his  main  task.  And  the  result 
is  not  simple  postponement,  for  the  play 
catches  the  king's  conscience  in  a  way  that 
Hamlet  had  not  anticipated,  and  thereby 
creates  a  new  obstacle  to  the  attainment  of 
revenge.  The  king  is  led  to  feel  remorse  and 
to  pray.  Hamlet,  searching  for  the  king  in 
order  that  he  may  kill  him,  finds  him  at  prayer, 
and  spares  his  life,  in  order  to  avoid  the  possi- 
bility of  thwarting  his  vengeance  by  sending  the 
king  to  heaven.  Hamlet's  reasoning,  however 
it  may  shock  modern  sensibilities,  is  not  with- 
out a  certain  plausibility,  and  according  to  the 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  481 

moral  scheme  of  an  Elizabethan  revenge-play, 
would  be  perfectly  justifiable,  provided  always 
that  Hamlet  were  acting  on  his  own  responsi- 
bility. But  Hamlet  is  not  a  free  agent,  and  it 
should  not  be  his  to  " reason  why."  To  the 
objection  that  the  ghost's  words,  "Cut  off  even 
in  the  blossom  of  my  sin,"  imply  an  obligation 
upon  Hamlet  to  kill  his  uncle  in  a  moment  of 
sin  and  thereby  ensure  his  eternal  damnation,  it 
may  be  answered  that  the  ghost  had  also  said, 
"Howsoever  thou  pursuest  this  act,"  and  that 
in  the  very  next  scene  the  ghost  reproves  Ham- 
let for  his  "blunted  purpose,"  a  reproof  which 
it  is  natural  to  connect  directly  with  Hamlet's 
failure  to  seize  this  particular  opportunity. 
Further,  Shakespeare  makes  it  clear  that  even 
by  his  own  principle,  Hamlet  was  wrong  in 
not  accepting  his  chance,  for  this  moment  of 
apparent  repentance  is  precisely  the  moment 
in  which  the  king  has  definitely  formulated 
his  situation,  and  has  resolved  not  to  act  as 
becomes  a  repentant  man. 

The  ghost's  reappearance  should  be  sufficient 
evidence  that  Hamlet's  conduct  has  not  been 
blameless.  The  repetition  of  a  supernatural 
command,  in  Hamlet's  case  as  in  that  of  the 
prophet  Jonah,  is  proof  positive  that  the  person 
commanded  has  been  remiss.  The  ghost's 
words,  "I  come  to  whet  thy  almost  blunted 
purpose,"  are  incompatible  with  any  belief 
that  Hamlet  is  a  "man  of  action,"  deferring 


482  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR. 

his  revenge  only  for  reasons  of  necessity.  It 
is  to  be  noted  that  although  the  ghost  bids 
Hamlet  calm  his  mother,  "O,  step  between 
her  and  her  fighting  soul,"  it  does  not  specifi- 
cally reprove  Hamlet  for  having  upbraided  her, 
nor  does  it  repeat  the  warning,  "Taint  not  thy 
mind."  If  the  ghost  has  nothing  further  to  say 
upon  these  points,  the  reason  must  be  that  Ham- 
let is  in  need  of  no  further  exhortation.  It  is  to 
be  noted  likewise  that  the  ghost  does  not  for- 
bid Hamlet's  going  to  England.  Now  it  has 
been  alleged  again  and  again  that  Hamlet's 
departure  from  Denmark  seems  to  imply  an 
abandonment  of  his  purpose;  that  he  should 
have  remained  in  Elsinore,  because  only  there 
could  his  revenge  be  accomplished.  Indeed, 
it  is  even  urged  that  this  absence  from  Den- 
mark, at  the  critical  moment  of  the  return  of 
Laertes,  is  what  alone  makes  possible  the  sub- 
sequent catastrophes:  the  death  of  Laertes,  of 
the  queen,  and  of  Hamlet  himself.  But  the 
real  causes  of  these  events  lie  further  back,  in 
the  sparing  of  the  king  at  prayer  and  in  the  de- 
lays and  hesitations  which  preceded  this.  The 
departure  for  England  is,  as  it  were,  linked  with 
dreadful  consequences,  but  it  is  not  their  cause. 
Hamlet's  fault  is  not  that  he  sets  out  for  Eng- 
land, but  that  he  should  have  placed  himself 
in  a  position  which  made  this  course  necessary. 
The  silence  of  the  ghost  should  be  conclusive. 
And  the  necessity  of  Hamlet's  setting  out  for 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  483 

England  is  otherwise  apparent.  After  the 
killing  of  Polonius  he  is  placed  under  guard 
(iv.  iii.  14).  His  only  practical  course  is  that 
which  he  actually  takes:  to  leave  Denmark 
quietly  with  his  guards,  and  to  elude  them  at 
the  first  opportunity,  once  the  shores  of  Den- 
mark have  been  left  behind. 

After  the  third  act  the  ghost  does  not  reappear. 
The  plain  inference  is  that  intervention  is  no 
longer  necessary,  that  Hamlet's  course,  reckless 
as  it  may  seem,  particularly  to  those  who  wish, 
like  Goethe,  to  conceive  of  him  as  a  tender, 
fragile,  or  flower-like  creature,  unfitted  to  take 
risks  or  confront  dangers,  leads  directly  to  the 
fulfillment  of  his  task.  He  feels  himself  to  have 
the  caution,  the  strength,  the  resourcefulness, 
the  courage,  and  the  determination  to  accom- 
plish his  purpose.  The  time  of  irresolution  and 
delay  is  past.  His  words  to  Horatio,  "  The  in- 
terim is  mine"  (v.  ii.  73)  are  those  of  a  man  con- 
fident of  his  mastery  of  the  situation.  If  he 
holds  a  blunted  foil  in  one  hand,  he  holds  an 
unbated  dagger  in  the  other.  He  twice  refuses 
the  poisoned  cup.  He  is  no  longer  the  hesitat- 
ing and  meditative  Hamlet  of  the  second  and 
third  acts,  but  a  Hamlet  who  in  a  school  of 
bitter  experience  has  learned  how  to  overcome 
his  own  weaknesses,  and  has  thus  fitted  himself 
for  the  task  of  overcoming  his  enemy.  The 
supernatural  judgment  of  the  ghost  was  not  at 
fault. 


484  WILLIAM  STRUNK,  JR. 

The  conclusions  resulting  from  this  principle  of 
the  virtual  infallibility  of  the  ghost  are  in  large 
part  not  new.  Indeed,  any  comprehensive  dis- 
cussion of  Hamlet's  conduct  which  is  wholly  new 
can  hardly  escape  being  fantastic.  My  aim  has 
been  to  emphasize  the  importance  of  the  words 
and  actions  of  the  ghost  as  the  necessary  point 
of  departure  for  all  interpretation  of  the  play, 
and  within  due  limits,  as  the  final  authority  in 
such  interpretation.  An  examination  of  these 
words  and  actions  enables  us  in  large  measure 
to  discriminate  between  the  conclusions  derived 
from  other  data.  We  are  enabled  to  conclude 
with  certainty  that  Hamlet  essentially  is  not 
in  madness,  but  mad  in  craft;  that  he  is  not 
temperamentally  unfit  for  the  task  assigned 
him,  but  a  fit  instrument  of  revenge ;  that  his 
task  does  not  include  self -justification  or  the 
bringing  of  the  king  to  public  ignominy,  but  is 
limited  to  the  attainment  of  vengeance,  a  task 
possible  to  him  only  when  he  shall  first  have 
succeeded  in  overcoming  his  inclination  to 
melancholy  and  in  banishing  from  his  mind  his 
indignation  at  his  mother's  frailty.  In  the  sec- 
ond and  third  acts  we  see  him  fail  to  carry  out 
the  ghost's  command,  because  he  has  not  yet 
overcome  these  obstacles.  But  his  efforts  at 
self-mastery  have  so  far  availed  that  the  re- 
appearance of  the  ghost,  aided  by  his  own  self- 
reproaches,  makes  it  possible  for  him  to  advance 
thenceforward  steadily  and  surely  toward  the 


THE  GHOST  IN  HAMLET  485 

goal  of  his  revenge.  The  lives  that  seem  to  be 
needlessly  sacrificed,  in  the  last  two  acts  are 
the  price  of  Hamlet's  previous  hesitation  and 
delay.  For  all  this,  so  far  as  I  can  interpret 
the  text,  we  have  the  authority  of  the  ghost, 
which,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  is  as  much 
as  to  say,  we  have  Shakespeare's  own  authority. 


CONTEMPORARY  AMERICAN 
PHILOSOPHY* 

BY  FRANK  THILLY,  PH.D.,  LL.D. 

Until  quite  recently  philosophy  in  America 
has  been  closely  allied  with  theology.  During 
the  colonial  days  the  colleges  were  practically 
training  schools  for  the  clergy;  the  presidents 
and  professors  were  theologians,  and  the  stu- 
dents entered  college  in  order  to  prepare  them- 
selves for  the  ministry.2  Philosophy  was  in  a 
great  measure  the  handmaiden  of  theology, 
as  was  the  case  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Indeed, 
even  to  this  day  the  great  majority  of  the  small- 
er colleges  are  denominational,  and  in  such 
schools  philosophy  is  still  subservient  to  theol- 
ogy. It  is  only  in  the  institutions  freed  from 
clerical  control  and  particularly  in  the  larger 
universities  that  philosophy  is  taught  without 
a  theological  bias. 

It  was  quite  natural  that  in  a  colony  of 
Great  Britain  the  influence  of  British  systems  of 
thought  should  have  been   the  preponderant 

1  This  article  is  a  revision  of  a  paper  which  was  published 
in  the  Revue  de  Metaphysique  el  de  Morale,  September,  1908. 

3  Birdsete,  Individual  Training  in  American  Colleges, 
1906. 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  487 

one.  We  find,  among  the  earlier  American 
teachers  and  writers  of  philosophy,  followers  of 
Locke  and  Berkeley,  as  well  as,  later  on,  advo- 
cates of  the  Scottish  systems  of  Reid  and  his 
school.  All  these  movements  were  spiritualis- 
tic and  antagonistic  to  scepticism  and  material- 
ism.3 The  thinkers,  however,  who  were  more 
or  less  influenced  by  Locke  and  Berkeley, — 
the  greatest  among  them  being  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards (|1758), — leaned  towards  idealism,  while 
those  who  embraced  the  Scottish  philosophy 
were  common-sense  realists.  President  John 
Witherspoon,  of  Princeton  College,  who  came 
from  Scotland  in  1768,  introduced  the  Scottish 
philosophy  into  the  United  States,  and  Prince- 
ton has  remained  the  center  of  this  school 
almost  down  to  the  present.  Dr.  James  McCosh, 
President  of  Princeton  University  from  1868 
to  1888,  was  doubtless  the  ablest  exponent 
of  the  'common-sense  philosophy'  in  the  land  of 
his  adoption.  Professor  A.  T.  Ormond,  of 
Princeton,  shows  the  influence  of  his  Scotch 
predecessor  in  his  writings,  but  endeavors  to 
reconcile  the  teachings  of  his  master  with  the 
theories  of  Kant  and  Lotze.4 

A  reaction  against  these  prevailing  currents 
of  thought  appeared  in  so-called  Boston  Tran- 

4  A  materialistic  movement,  however,  sprang  up  among 
a  large  class  of  scientists  outside  of  the  colleges.  Cf .  Riley, 
American  Philosophy.     The  Early  Schools,  1907. 

4  Basal  Concepts  in  Philosophy,  1894;  Foundations  of  Knowl- 
edge, 1900;  Concepts  of  Philosophy,  1906. 


488  FRANK  THILLY 

scendentalism,  the  leaders  of  which  were  W.  E. 
Channing  (1780-1843)  and  Ralph  Waldo  Emer- 
son (1803-1882). 5  The  movement  was  idealistic 
in  character;  for  it  mind  was  the  only  reality 
and  everything  else  manifestation  of  spirit. 
In  the  individualistic  idealism  of  Emerson 
this  notion  received  its  most  eloquent  ethical 
application  and  exercised  a  most  salutary  influ- 
ence upon  the  spiritual  life  of  the  new  country. 
This  popular  form  of  idealism  received  its  nour- 
ishment from  the  critical  philosophy  of  Kant; 
not  directly  however,  but  partly  through  the 
writings  of  the  English  poet  Coleridge,  partly 
through  the  works  of  the  French  philosopher 
Cousin,  many  of  which  had  been  translated  into 
English  during  the  second  and  third  decades 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  The  interest  in 
German  speculative  philosophy  became  especi- 
ally strong,  and  led  in  time  to  a  direct  study  of 
the  works  of  Kant,  Fichte,  Schelling,  and 
Hegel.  Dr.  W.  T.  Harris  (11909),  of  St.  Louis, 
in  1867  founded  The  Journal  of  Speculative 
Philosophy,  in  which  were  published  many 
translations  from  the  writings  of  Fichte,  Schel- 
ling, and  Hegel,  and  which  continued  to  appear 
until  the  beginning  of  the  nineties.  A  further 
impetus  was  given  to  the  study  of  speculative 
philosophy  by  the  founding  of  the   Concord 

6  Frotuingham,  History  of  Transcendentalism  in  New 
England,  1876;  Goddard,  Studies  in  New  England  Tran- 
scendentalism, 1908. 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  489 

School  of  Philosophy,  in  1879,  by  A.  Bronson 
Alcott6  (fl888).  During  the  summer,  meetings 
extending  over  a  period  of  several  weeks  were 
held  at  Concord,  Massachusetts,  and  lectures 
on  philosophy,  literature,  and  art  delivered  by 
leading  thinkers,  among  them  being  Dr.  Harris, 
President  Noah  Porter,  Professors  George  S. 
Morris,  John  Watson,  and  G.  H.  Howison. 
Another  manifestation  of  the  trend  towards 
idealism  was  the  publication  of  the  German 
Philosophical  Classics  under  the  editorship  of 
Professor  Morris,  a  series  which  began  to  appear 
in  1881  and  embraced  the  following  books: 
Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  by  G.  S.  Morris; 
Schelling's  Transcendental  Idealism,  by  John 
Watson;  Fichte's  Science  of  Knowledge,  by  C. 
C.  Everett;  HegeVs  Aesthetics,  by  J.  S.  Kedney; 
Kant's  Ethics,  by  Noah  Porter;  HegeVs  Philos- 
ophy of  State  and  Philosophy  of  History,  by 
G.  S.  Morris;  Leibniz's  New  Essays  concerning 
the  Human  Understanding,  by  John  Dewey; 
and  Hegel's  Logic,  by  W.  T.  Harris.7 

Although  American  Transcendentalism  has 
had  very  little  direct  influence  upon  the  present 
generation  of  philosophical  students  in  the 
United  States,  it  did  encourage  and  help  to  keep 

6  Sanborn  and  Harris,  Life  and  Philosophy  of  A.  Bronson 
Alcott,  1893. 

7  A  bibliography  of  the  history  of  American  philosophy 
is  given  in  the  tenth  edition  of  Ueberweg-Heinze's  Grund- 
riss  dei-  Geschichte  der  Philosophic,  Vierter  Teil,  §63. 


490  FRANK  THILLY 

alive  an  interest  in  speculation  and  especially 
in  idealism,  in  a  country  whose  tendencies  are 
so  largely  practical.  The  greatest  influence 
exercised  upon  teachers  and  writers  of  philos- 
ophy from  the  idealistic  side  has  come  from 
the  English  Neo-Hegelians,  Thomas  Hill  Green, 
the  two  Cairds,  Bosanquet,  and  Bradley,  as 
well  as  from  the  renewed  study  of  the  German 
post-Kantians  in  the  light  of  their  English 
interpreters.  Among  the  representatives  of 
this  modern  type  of  objective  idealism,  we  may 
mention  Professors  John  Watson,8  of  Queen's 
College,  Canada;  Josiah  Royce,  of  Harvard 
University;  J.  E.  Creighton, 9  W.  A.  Hammond,10 
and  Ernest  Albee,11  of  Cornell  University;  John 

8  Recent  works  of  Watson  are :  Hedonistic  Theories  from 
Aristippus  to  Spencer,  1895;  Christianity  and  Idealism,  1897; 
An  Outline  of  Philosophy,  1898;  The  Philosophy  of  Kant  Ex- 
plained, 1908;  The  Philosophical  Basis  of  Religion,  1909. 

3  Introductory  Logic,  2d  ed.,  1909.  See  Creighton's 
articles  in  The  Philosophical  Review,  of  which  he  is  the  editor : 
"The  Nature  of  Intellectual  Synthesis,"  vol.  vi;  "The 
Standpoint  of  Experience,"  vol.  xii;  "Purpose  as  Logical 
Category,"  vol.  xiii;  "Thought  and  Experience,"  vol.  xv; 
"The  Nature  and  Criterion  of  Truth,"  vol.  xvii. 

10  Translator  of  Aristotle's  Psychology  and  the  Char- 
acters of  Theophrastus,  and  author  of  articles  and 
reviews  on  Greek  and  medieval  philosophy.  See  his 
article  on  "Logic"  in  Congress  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  vol.  i, 
1905. 

11 A  History  of  English  Utilitarianism,,  1902.  See  his 
articles  in  Phil.  Review:  "The  Significance  of  Methodo- 
logical Principles,"  vol.  xv,  no.  3;  "Descriptive  and  Nor- 
mative Sciences,"  vol.  xvi,  no.  2;  and  "The  Present  Meaning 
of  Idealism,"  vol.  xviii,  no.  3. 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  491 

Grier  Hibben,12  of  Princeton  University; 
A.  K.  Rogers,13  of  Missouri  University;  J.  A. 
Leighton,14  of  Ohio  State  University;  Mary  W. 
Calkins,15  of  Wellesley  College;  and  Ellen  B. 
Talbot,16  of  Mt.  Holyoke  College.  Dr.  W.  T. 
Harris,17  formerly  United  States  Commissioner 
of  Education,  who  for  more  than  fifty  years 
advocated  the  cause  of  Hegelianism  in  America, 
shows  a  greater  dependence  upon  the  German 
masters  than  any  of  his  younger  contemporaries. 
Professor    Hugo    Miinsterberg,18    of    Harvard 

12  Inductive  Logic,  1896;  The  Problems  of  Philosophy, 
1898;  Hegel's  Logic,  1902;  Logic,  Deductive  and  Inductive, 
1905;  The  Philosophy  of  the  Enlightenment,  1910.  See  the 
articles  "The  Test  of  Pragmatism,"  Phil.  Review,  vol.  xvii, 
no.  4;  and  "The  Philosophical  Aspects  of  Evolution,"  Phil. 
Rev.,  vol.  xix,  no.  2. 

15  Introduction  to  Modern  Philosophy,  1899;  A  Student's 
History  of  Philosophy,  1901 ;  The  Religious  Conception  of  the 
World,  1907.  See  articles  in  Phil.  Review,  especially:  "Pro- 
fessor James's  Theory  of  Knowledge,"  vol.  xv,  no.  6;  "Ra- 
tionality and  Belief,"  vol.  xiii,  no.  1;  "Scepticism,"  vol. 
xiii,  no.  6. 

14  Typical  Modern  Conceptions  of  God,  1901.  See  the  ar- 
ticles in  Phil.  Review:  "The  Psychological  Self  and  the  Ac- 
tual Personality,"  vol.  xiv,  no.  6;  "The  Objects  of  Knowl- 
edge," vol.  xvi,  no.  6;  "The  Final  Ground  of  Knowledge," 
vol.  xvii,  no.  4;  "Perception  and  Physical  Reality,"  vol. 
xix,  no.  1. 

15  Persistent  Problems  of  Philosophy,  1907;  An  Introduc- 
tion to  Psychology,  1901. 

16  The  Fundamental  Principle  of  Fichte's  Philosophy,  1906. 

17  Hegel's  Logic,  1890;  Introduction  to  Philosophy,  1890; 
Psychologic  Foundations  of  Education,  1898.  Dr.  Harris 
was  also  the  editor  of  The  International  Education  Series. 

18  Grundziige  der  Psychologic,  vol.  i,  1900;  Psychology  and 


492  FRANK  THILLY 

University,  belongs  to  the  neo-Fichtean  school 
of  thinkers  represented  in  Germany,  his  native 
land,  by  Eucken,  Windelband,  and  Rickert. 
Professor  G.  H.  Howison,19  of  the  University 
of  California,  adopts  the  Hegelian  method, 
but  teaches  a  system  of  personal  idealism. 
His  success  in  arousing  an  interest  in  specula- 
tion on  the  Pacific  coast,  and  in  attracting  able 
young  men  to  the  study  of  philosophy,  has  been 
great.  Among  well-known  pupils,  who  have 
also  studied  with  James  and  Royce,  we  may 
mention  Professors  C.  M.  Blakewell,20  of  Yale 
University,  and  A.  O.  Lovejoy,21  of  the  Johns 
Hopkins  University. 
Professor  G.  T.  Ladd,22  of  Yale  University, 

Life,  1899;  Science  and  Idealism,  1906;  Philosophic  der  Werte, 
1908;  The  Eternal  Values,  1909;  Psychology  and  the  Teacher, 
1909. 

19  The  Limits  of  Evolution  and  Other  Essays,  1901.  See 
also  the  article  in  Congress  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  vol.  i,  1905: 
"Philosophy:  Its  Fundamental  Conceptions  and  its  Meth- 
ods." 

20  Source  Book  in  Ancient  Philosophy,  1907.  See  the  art- 
icles in  Phil.  Review :  "The  Ugly  Infinite  and  the  Good-for- 
Nothing  Absolute,"  vol.  xvi,  no.  2;  "On  the  Meaning  of 
Truth,"  vol.  xvii,  no.  6;  "Idealism  and  Realism,"  vol.  xviii, 
no.  5. 

21  "The  Thirteen  Pragmatisms,"  Journal  of  Philosophy, 
Psychology,  and  Scientific  Methods,  vol.  v,  nos.  1  and  2; 
"Pragmatism  and  Realism,"  ibid.,  vi,  no.  21;  "The  Obso- 
lescence of  the  Eternal,"  Phil.  Rev.,  vol.  xviii,  no.  5. 

22  Elements  of  Physiological  Psychology,  1887;  Introduction 
to  Philosophy,  1890;  Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory, 
1894;  The  Philosophy  of  Mind,  1895;  The  Philosophy  of  Knowl- 
edge, 1897;  A  Theory  of  Reality,  1899;  The  Philosophy  of  Con- 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  493 

who  has  produced  many  works  of  scholarly 
character  in  the  different  branches  of  philos- 
ophy, betrays  the  influence  of  Lotze  and  may  be 
reckoned  among  the  representatives  of  a  later 
German  idealism.  There  are,  according  to 
him,  two  beings,  mind  and  body.  But  dual- 
ism is  not  the  ultimate  solution  of  the  prob- 
lem; nature  and  body  and  mind  cannot  be  left 
by  rational  mind  itself  in  this  condition  of  sepa- 
rateness;  this  dualism  must  be  dissolved  in  some 
ultimate  monistic  solution.  The  Being  of  the 
World,  of  which  all  particular  beings  are  but 
parts,  must  then  be  so  conceived  of  as  that  in  it 
can  be  found  the  One  Ground  of  all  interrelated 
existences  and  activities.  This  one  principle 
is  an  Other  and  an  Absolute  Mind.  Professor 
B.  P.  Bowne23  CJ1910),  of  Boston  University,  is 
also  a  pupil  of  Lotze.  Professor  C.  A.  Strong,24 
of  Columbia  University,  presents  a  system  of 
idealistic  monism  like  Fechner's  which  does  not 
differ  from  that  set  forth  in  Friedrich  Paulsen's 
Einleitung  in  die  Philosophie.  Professor  W.  T. 
Marvin,25  of  Princeton  University,  who  defines 

duct,  1902;  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,  1906;  Knowledge, 
Life,  and  Reality,  1909.  The  summary  of  Ladd's  theory, 
given  above,  is  taken  from  his  Philosophy  of  Mind. 

23  The  Philosophy  of  Herbert  Spencer,  1874;  Metaphysics, 
1882;  Introduction  to  Psychological  Theory,  1886;  Philosophy 
of  Theism,  1887;  Principles  of  Ethics,  1892;  Theory  of 
Thought  and  Knowledge,  1897;  Theism,  1902. 

24  Why  the  Mind  has  a  Body,  1903. 

25  Introduction  to  Systematic  Philosophy,  1903. 


494  FRANK  THILLY 

his  standpoint  as  rationalistic  idealism,  has 
been  influenced  by  recent  German  thought  as 
represented  by  Benno  Erdmann.  President 
J.  G.  Schurman,26  of  Cornell  University,  who 
founded  The  Philosophical  Review  and  estab- 
lished the  Sage  School  of  Philosophy,  one  of  the 
centers  of  philosophical  study  in  the  United 
States,  has  made  valuable  contributions  to  the 
study  of  Kantian  philosophy. 

The  leading  figure  in  the  idealistic  school, 
and  perhaps  the  most  thorough  student  of  the 
history  of  philosophy  in  the  country,  is  Josiah 
Royce.  He  has  written  many  books  which  give 
evidence  not  only  of  broad  scholarship  and  spec- 
ulative capacity,  but  also  of  fine  literary  ability 
and  taste.27 

Our  world  of  common  sense,  says  Royce, 
has  no  fact  in  it  which  we  cannot  interpret  in 
terms  of  ideas,  so  that  this  world  is  throughout 
such  stuff  as  ideas  are  made  of.  All  the  reality 
that  we  can  attribute  to  our  world,  in  so  far  as 
we  know  and  can  tell  what  we  mean  thereby, 
becomes  an  ideal.    There  is,  in  fact,  a  certain 

28  Kantian  Ethics  and  the  Ethics  of  Evolution,  1881;  The 
Ethical  Import  of  Darwinism,  1888 ;  Belief  in  God,  1890;  Ag- 
nosticism and  Religion,  1896. 

27  Among  them  may  be  mentioned :  The  Religious  Aspects 
of  Philosophy,  1885;  The  Spirit  of  Modern  Philosophy,  1892; 
The  Conception  of  God,  1897;  Studies  of  Good  and  Evil,  1898; 
The  World  and  the  Individual,  2  vols.,  1900,  1901;  Outlines  of 
Psychology,  1902;  Herbert  Spencer,  1904;  and  The  Philosophy 
of  Loyalty.  1908. 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  495 

system  of  ideas  forced  upon  us  by  experience, 
which  we  have  to  use  as  the  guide  for  our  con- 
duct. We  call  it  the  world  of  matter.  But  is 
there  not  something  yonder  that  corresponds  in 
fact  to  this  series  of  experiences  in  us?  Yes, 
but  it  is  itself  a  system  of  ideas  outside  of  our 
minds  but  not  outside  of  every  mind.  If  my 
world  yonder  is  anything  knowable  at  all,  it 
must  be  in  and  for  itself  essentially  a  mental 
world.  It  exists  in  and  for  a  standard,  an  uni- 
versal mind,  whose  system  of  ideas  simply 
constitutes  the  world.  Minds  I  can  understand 
because  I  am  myself  a  mind.  An  existence  that 
has  no  mental  attribute  is  to  me  wholly  opaque. 
Either  a  mind  yonder  or  else  the  unknowable, 
that  is  your  choice.  But  nothing  absolutely 
unknowable  can  exist ;  the  notion  of  it  is  non- 
sense. Everything  knowable  is  an  idea,  the 
content  of  some  mind.  If  capable  of  being 
known  by  a  mind,  this  essence  is  then  already 
essentially  ideal  and  mental.  The  real  world 
must  be  a  mind  or  a  group  of  minds. 

But  how  do  I  ever  reach  those  ideas  of  the 
minds  beyond  me?  In  one  sense  you  never  do 
or  can  get  beyond  your  own  ideas,  nor  ought 
you  to  wish  to  do  so,  because  all  those  other 
minds  that  constitute  your  outer  and  real  world 
are  in  essence  one  with  your  own  self.  The 
whole  world  is  essentially  one  world,  and  so  it 
is  essentially  the  world  of  one  self  and  That  art 
Thou.    The  self  that  means  the  object  is  iden- 


496  FRANK  THILLY 

tical  with  the  larger  self  that  possesses  the  ob- 
ject, just  as  when  you  seek  a  lost  idea.  This 
deeper  self  is  the  self  that  knows  in  unity  all 
truth.  There  is  then  but  one  self,  organically, 
reflectively,  consciously  inclusive  of  all  selves, 
and  so  of  all  truth.  It  is  the  Logos,  problem- 
solver,  all-knower.  Absolutely  the  only  thing 
sure  from  the  first  about  this  world  is  that  it  is 
intelligent,  rational,  orderly,  essentially  com- 
prehensible, so  that  all  its  problems  are  some- 
how solved,  all  its  darkest  mysteries  are  known 
to  the  Supreme  Self.  This  Self  infinitely  and 
reflectively  transcends  our  consciousness,  and, 
therefore,  since  it  includes  us,  it  is  at  the  very 
least  a  person,  and  more  definitely  conscious 
than  we  are;  for  what  it  possesses  is  self-reflect- 
ing knowledge,  and  what  is  knowledge  aware  of 
itself,  but  consciousness?  The  natural  and 
spiritual  orders,  the  physical  and  the  moral 
orders,  the  divine  and  the  human,  the  fatal 
and  the  free,  may,  according  to  Royce,  be  recon- 
ciled on  Kant's  doctrine  of  the  transcendental 
or  extra-temporal  freedom  and  the  temporal 
necessity  of  all  our  actions. 

This  account  of  Royce's  philosophy  is  taken 
from  his  Spirit  of  Modern  Philosophy.  In  his 
large  systematic  work,  The  World  and  the  In- 
dividual, the  theory  is  worked  out  with  great 
detail  and  applied  to  the  interpretation  of  the 
facts  of  nature  and  of  man.  Partly  owing  to 
the  nature  of  the  problems  with  which  he  is 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  497 

dealing,  and  partly,  perhaps,  in  order  to  ward 
off  the  criticism  of  exaggerating  the  intellectu- 
alistic  element,  Royce  places  greater  emphasis 
upon  the  volitional  and  purposive  side  of  ex- 
perience in  these  later  volumes  than  in  the  ear- 
lier presentations  of  his  views.  "To  be  means 
simply  to  express,  to  embody  the  complete  in- 
ternal meaning  of  a  certain  absolute  system  of 
ideas, — a  system,  moreover,  which  is  genuinely 
implied  in  the  true  internal  meaning  or  purpose 
of  every  finite  form  of  the  idea,  however  fragmen- 
tary." The  final  form  of  the  idea,  the  "final  ob- 
ject sought  when  we  seek  Being,  is  (1)  a  complete 
expression  of  the  internal  meaning  of  the  finite 
idea  with  which,  in  any  case,  we  start  our  quest ; 
(2)  a  complete  fulfilment  of  the  will  or  purpose 
partially  embodied  in  this  idea;  (3)  an  individ- 
ual life  for  which  no  other  can  be  substituted." 

In  other  words,  Royce  seeks  to  escape  the 
charge  of  intellectualism  by  emphasizing  the 
active  aspect  of  ideas,  and  the  charge  of  mysti- 
cism, by  emphasizing  the  place  of  the  individ- 
ual self  in  the  absolute  self.28 

In  his  Philosophy  of  Loyalty,  an  eloquent  pre- 
sentation of  his  ethical  theory,  Royce  deduces 
the  idealistic  world-view  from  the  basal  moral 
principle,  loyalty  to  loyalty,  that  is,  loyalty  to 
a  cause  that  makes  possible  the  greatest  amount 
of  loyalty  or  devotion  to  a  cause.     My  causes 

28  See  also  Royce's  article, "The  Reality  of  the  Temporal," 
International  Journal  of  Ethics,  April,  1910. 


498  FRANK  THILLY 

must  form  a  system,  they  must  constitute  a 
single  cause,  a  life  of  loyalty;  they  must  make 
universal  loyalty  possible.  Loyalty  therefore 
implies  faith  in  a  universal  cause,  in  a  highest 
good,  in  a  highest  spiritual  value.  If  this  prin- 
ciple is  to  have  any  meaning,  if  it  is  no  mere 
illusion,  there  must  be  a  spiritual  unity,  a  unity 
in  which  all  values  are  preserved.  The  prin- 
ciple of  loyalty  is  not  only  a  guide  of  life,  it 
shows  us  or  reveals  to  us  an  eternal  all-embrac- 
ing unity  of  spiritual  life,  a  being  that  preserves 
and  upholds  truth  and  goodness.  We  have  here 
a  moral  argument  for  the  existence  of  God, 
similar  to  that  presented  in  Kant's  Critique  of 
Practical  Reason. 

The  system  we  have  described  is  idealistic 
in  the  sense  that  all  our  knowledge  is  of  ideas; 
it  is  monistic  in  the  sense  that  there  is  but  one 
principle  of  reality;  it  is  spiritualistic  in  the 
sense  that  this  principle  is  mind  or  idea;  it  is 
pantheistic  in  the  sense  that  all  ideas  and  minds 
are  included  in  one  great  mind  or  system  of 
ideas ;  it  is  theistic  in  the  sense  that  this  system 
is  a  conscious  unity;  it  is  rationalistic  in  the 
sense  that  it  assumes  categories  of  thought 
common  to  all  reason;  it  is  absolutistic  in  the 
sense  that  it  sets  up  an  absolute  standard  of 
truth. 

A  strong  reaction  has  set  in  against  this 
school,  and  philosophy  in  America  to-day  is 
characterized  largely  by  the  attacks  which  are 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  499 

being  made  by  different  writers  upon  every  one 
of  the  positions  described  above.  We  get  in 
consequence  the  movements  of  realism,  imme- 
diate or  radical  empiricism,  pragmatism,  dual- 
ism, and  pluralism,  according  to  the  different 
phases  of  the  idealistic  world-view  singled  out 
for  criticism. 

One  group  of  thinkers,  turning  their  attention 
mainly  to  the  question  of  the  nature  of  knowl- 
edge, oppose  the  idealistic  teachings  with  a  neo- 
realistic  philosophy.  Some  of  these,  like  Pro- 
fessors F.  J.  E.  Woodbridge29  and  W.  P.  Mon- 
tague,30 of  Columbia  University,  and  Professor 
E.  B.  McGilvary,31  of  the  University  of  Wiscon- 
sin, have  been  much  influenced  by  the  teachings 

29  "The  Field  of  Logic,"  published  in  Congress  of  Arts  and 
Sciences,  vol.  i,  1905;  also  in  Science,  vol.  xx,  p.  587;  "The 
Problem  of  Consciousness,"  in  Studies  in  Philosophy  and 
Psychology  (the  Garman  volume),  190G;  "Consciousness,  the 
Sense  Organs,  and  the  Nervous  System,"  Journal  of  Phil- 
osophy, Psychology,  and  Scientific  Methods  (of  which  W.  is 
the  editor),  vol.  vi,  p.  449;  "Perception  and  Epistemology," 
in  Essays  Philosophical  and  Psychological  (the  James  vol- 
ume), 1908. 

30  "Contemporary  Realism  and  the  Problems  of  Percep- 
tion;" "Current  Misconceptions  of  Realism,"  Journal  of 
Philosophy,  vol.  iv,  374,  100;  "Consciousness  a  Form  of 
Energy,"  in  the  James  volume,  1908;  "May  a  Realist  be  a 
Pragmatist?"  J.  of  Phil.,  vol.  vi,  pp.  460,  485,  543,  561. 

31  "Pure  Experience  and  Reality,"  Phil.  Review,  vol.  xvi, 
no.  3;  "The  Stream  of  Consciousness;"  "Prolegomena  to  a 
Tentative  Realism;"  "The  Physiological  Argument  against 
Realism;"  "Realism  and  the  Physical  World;"  all  in  vol. 
iv  of  J.  of  Phil,  pp.  225,  449,  589,  683;  "Experience  and  its 
Inner  Duplicity,"  J.  of  Phil.,  vol.  vi,  p.  225. 


500  FRANK  THILLY 

of  natural  science  and  the  doctrine  of  evolu- 
tion. They  direct  their  attacks  mainly  against 
the  phenomenalistic  and  spiritualistic  phases 
of  idealism,  and  emphasize  the  reality  and  pri- 
macy of  the  surrounding  world.  According  to 
Woodbridge  natural  science  has  steadily  tended 
to  decrease  the  importance  of  man  and  his 
philosophizing  about  the  world.  In  evolution 
there  is  no  mind  as  an  end-term  whose  relations 
eventuate  in  consciousness.  There  are  rather 
processes  of  various  sorts  undergoing  continual 
reorganization  until,  at  last,  they  become  con- 
scious and  understand  the  conditions  out  of 
which  they  grew,  learn  their  own  history  and 
genesis,  and  thus  awake  to  the  conviction  that 
consciousness  is  not  something  original,  but 
derived.  How  does  the  question,  "How  does 
the  mind  know  the  world?"  have  significance 
when  you  are  asking  the  question,  "How  does 
the  world  evolve  to  consciousness  of  itself?" 
The  more  clearly  the  concepts  of  evolution  are 
understood,  the  more  impossible  the  traditional 
idealistic  approach  to  philosophy  appears  to 
be.  Consciousness  is  not  an  end-term  in  a  rela- 
tion, but  a  relation  itself.  A  conscious  inquiry 
into  what  we  may  be  conscious  of  exhibits  a  great 
variety  of  things  grouped  in  various  ways  and 
having  various  relations  to  one  another.  Some 
general  types  of  relation  stand  out  more  prom- 
inently than  others,  e.g.,  spatial  and  temporal 
relations.    These  relations  hold  things  together. 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  501 

But  a  thing  may  suggest  another  thing,  it  may 
mean  the  other  thing  without  encompassing  the 
distance,  so  that  the  relation  of  meaning  is  just 
as  much  a  relation  between  things  as  is  space  and 
time.  The  relations  of  meaning  are  capable 
of  remarkable  systematization,  synthesis,  con- 
densation, and  unification,  and  this  takes  place 
apparently  without  any  corresponding  change 
in  the  other  relations  which  subsist.  Here 
we  find  the  motive,  so  prominent  in  philosophy, 
for  making  meanings  immaterial;  some  of  the 
relations  make  possible  a  material  synthesis  of 
things,  while  one  of  the  relations  makes  possible 
an  immaterial  synthesis. 

Consciousness  then  is  a  relation  of  meaning. 
The  character  of  "awareness"  which  is  ascribed 
to  consciousness  is  nothing  but  the  manifold 
and  irresistible  meaning-connections  which  the 
things  in  the  conscious  situation  have.  Reality 
as  known  is  to  be  set  over  against  reality  un- 
known or  independent  of  knowledge,  not  as 
image  to  original,  idea  to  thing,  phenomena  to 
noumena;  but  reality  as  known  is  a  new  stage 
in  the  development  of  reality  itself.  It  is  not 
an  external  mind  which  knows  reality  by  means 
of  its  own  ideas,  but  reality  itself  becomes 
known  through  its  own  expanding  and  readjust- 
ing processes.  The  addition  of  knowledge  to  a 
reality  hitherto  without  it,  is  simply  an  addition 
to  it  and  not  a  transformation  of  it.  The  things 
are  not  ideas  representing  other  things  outside 


502  FRANK  THILLY 

of  consciousness,  but  real  things,  which,  by 
being  in  consciousness,  have  the  capacity  of 
representing  each  other,  of  standing  for  or  imply- 
ing each  other. 

This  view  bases  itself  upon  an  evolutionistic 
metaphysics.    We  may  define  it  as  a  dogmatic 
realism.     It  assumes  a  real  world  and  it  assumes 
that  we  can  know  that  real  world.     But  knowl- 
edge is  not,  as  for  the  old  realism,  a  copy  or 
representation  of  the  real  world;  the  object  of 
vision,  for  example,  is  not  a  modification  of 
consciousness,  but  the  real  thing;  in  conscious- 
ness reality  becomes  directly  known.    The  world 
out  there  is  the  true  reality,  consciousness  is  a 
phase  in  its  development  which  adds  no  quality 
to  it  by  arising.     "Add  consciousness  to  the 
world  of  science,  and  then  meaning  is  added, 
but  nothing  else."     But  what  is  this  conscious- 
ness?   Woodbridge's  answer  is,  as  yet,  vague, 
indefinite,  and  obscure.     Unwilling  to  regard 
it  as  a  thing,  unwilling  also  to  conceive  it  as  a 
relating  activity,  and  yet  unable  to  ignore  it, 
he  calls  it  a  relation  between  things.    Just  what 
this  phrase  means  it  is  hard  to  discover;  it  re- 
minds one  ol  the  Pythagorean  doctrine  of  num- 
ber.   What  Woodbridge  ought  to  say  and  what 
his  descriptions  really  suggest  is  that  conscious- 
ness relates  things,  means  things,  that  things 
mean  other  things  to  consciousness.     Another 
difficulty  that  confronts  him  and  of  which  he  is 
aware,  but  which  he  does  not  succeed  in  remov- 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  503 

ing,  follows  from  his  attempt  to  restrict  all 
qualities  to  his  real  world.  In  adding  conscious- 
ness do  we  not  also  add  feelings  and  secondary 
qualities,  not  to  speak  of  volitions  and  images 
and  concepts?  Meaning  is  something  more  than 
a  mere  relation  between  things,  and  conscious- 
ness is  more  than  a  relation  of  meaning. 

Other  realists,  like  Professors  A.  E.  Taylor,32 
formerly  of  McGill  University,  Montreal,  now 
of  St.  Andrews,  Scotland,  and  Norman  Smith,33 
of  Princeton  University,  while  rejecting  sub- 
jective idealism  and  holding  that  we  become 
directly  aware  of  reality  as  it  is,  in  knowledge, 
are  unwilling  to  reduce  thinking  to  an  "  effect, 
a  product,  possibly  a  structure,  like  digesting 
and  blossoming,"  as  Woodbridge  feels  inclined 
to  do.  In  them  the  reaction  against  idealism 
does  not  reach  the  point  of  degrading  conscious- 
ness to  an  intermittent  phase  in  the  process  of 
evolution.  According  to  Taylor  the  real  Coper- 
nican  revolution  in  philosophy  has  been  made 
by  Avenarius  rather  than  by  Kant.  The  start- 
ing-point for  a  theory  of  knowledge,  he  says, 
is  not  the  existence  of  stimuli,  but  the  existence 

12  The  Problem  of  Conduct,  1901 ;  Elements  of  Metaphysics, 
1903;  Plato,  1908. 

33  Studies  in  Cartesian  Philosophy,  1902.  See  his  article 
in  Phil.  Review,  vol.  xvii,  no.  2:  "Subjectivism  and  Realism 
in  Modern  Philosophy." — Professor  G.  S.  Fullerton,  of  Col- 
umbia University,  is  an  empirical  realist  of  the  pre-Kantian 
type.  See  his  System  of  Metaphysics,  1904,  and  Introduc- 
tion to  Philosophy. 


504  FRANK  THILLY 

of  a  multitude  of  apprehended  objects,  colors, 
tones,  bodies,  concepts,  feelings,  emotions,  vo- 
litions, etc.  On  inspection  this  aggregate  is 
found  to  fall  into  two  minor  mutually  exclusive 
aggregates,  that  of  'mental'  states  or  processes, 
and  that  of  extra-mental  things.  The  peculiar 
characteristic  of  the  members  of  the  mental 
aggregate  is  that  any  proposition  asserting  their 
existence  can  be  replaced,  without  change  of 
meaning,  by  one  which  asserts  a  predicate  of 
the  knowing  subject  itself.  This  is  not  true 
of  the  aggregate  of  the  extra-mental.  When  I 
experience  blue,  it  is  not  I  who  am  blue,  but 
some  presented  object  other  than  the  expe- 
riencing T.  Now  the  extra-mental,  as  thus 
defined,  includes  not  only  bodies  and  their  per- 
ceived qualities,  but  all  so-called '  mental  images/ 
'ideas,'  'concepts.'  None  of  these  are  what 
they  have  too  often  been  called,  'states  of  mind;' 
their  predicates  are  fundamentally  different 
from  those  of  the  processes  in  which  they  are 
apprehended.  They  are,  in  fact,  objects  ex- 
perienced, not  processes  of  experiencing.  What, 
then,  are  the  mental  processes  involved  in  cog- 
nition? The  sole  ultimate  cognitive  process  of 
which  we  know  is  belief,  or  judgment,  and  it  is 
of  processes  of  judging,  not  of  'ideas,'  that 
knowledge  is  built  up.  Perception  is,  e.g.,  prop- 
erly, simply  the  assertion  of  an  existential  prop- 
osition which  includes  in  its  meaning  a  refer- 
ence to  present  time  and  to  a  determinate  region 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  505 

of  space.  The  cognitive  process  thus  takes  its 
place  by  the  side  of  the  other  forms  of  the  Yes- 
No  attitude  of  mind  towards  its  objects,  which 
it  is  the  function  of  psychology  to  study.  There 
is  no  reason  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  any 
simpler  or  more  ultimate  mental  processes  cor- 
responding directly  to  the  action  of  stimuli  on 
the  organs. 

To  know  is  not  to  put  extra-mental  things  into 
certain  relations,  but  to  affirm  that  they  are  so 
related.  Two  general  corollaries  may  be  ap- 
pended. (1)  A  sound  philosophy  has  to  start 
with  concessions  both  to  dualism  and  to  plural- 
ism. Both  the  contrast  between  the  I-element 
and  the  extra-mental  elements  in  the  world 
of  the  experienced,  and  the  plurality  of  I-ele- 
ments,  or  knowers,  appear  among  its  data,  and 
cannot  be  simply  suppressed  in  its  result.  The 
real  difficulty  is  not  to  see  how  there  can  be  a 
reality  'behind'  'phenomena/  but  how  any  ele- 
ment in  the  real  presented  world  can  be  mere 
'appearance.'  (2)  Of  existing  doctrines  that 
which  approximates  most  closely  to  the  truth 
is  probably  the  monadism  of  Leibniz,  though  it 
is  clear  that  some  of  the  logical  postulates  of 
monadism  must  be  false,  since  they  lead  1  o  the 
view  that  the  physical  world  is  made  up  of  dis- 
tinct and  independent  causal  series,  and  there  is 
good  reason  to  regard  this  conclusion  as  untrue.34 

34  This  account  of  Taylor's  theory  is  his  own  summary  of 
a  paper  read  at  the  Cornell  meeting  of  the  American  Philo- 


506  FRANK  THILLY 

These  neo-realistic  writers  are  mainly  opposed 
to  the  phenomenalistic  teachings  of  idealism. 
Another  group  of  thinkers  direct  their  attacks 
against  the  idealistic  criterion  of  knowledge,  and 
set  up  a  practical  standard  of  truth.  The  chief 
representatives  of  this  school,  which  has  a  large 
following  and  goes  by  the  name  of  pragmatism, 
are  Professor  William  James,35  of  Harvard  Uni- 
versity, and  Professor  John  Dewey,  of  Columbia 
University.  Professor  James  is  a  thinker  of  ori- 
ginal insight,  particularly  in  the  field  of  psychol- 
ogy, a  brilliant  writer,  and  a  teacher  of  great 
personal  charm.  Although  his  philosophical 
theories  have  met  with  lively  opposition,  he 
has  succeeded  in  arousing  an  enthusiastic  inter- 
est in  the  study  of  philosophy  among  a  wide 
circle  of  educated  Americans.  He  occupies  a 
central  position  in  modern  American  thought, 
and  nearly  all  our  philosophical  writers  find 
it  necessary  to  try  conclusions  with  him.36     I 

sophical  Association  in  1907.     See  "Report   of  Proceed- 
ings," Phil.  Review,  vol.  xvii,  no.  2. 

35  The  Principles  of  Psychology,  2  vols.,  1890 ;The  Will  to 
Believe  and  Other  Essays,  1897;  Human  Immortality,  1898; 
Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology,  1899;  The  Varieties  of  Re- 
ligious Experience,  1902;  Pragmatism:  A  New  Name  for 
Some  Old  Ways  of  Thinking,  1907;  A  Pluralistic  Universe, 
1909;  The  Meaning  of  Truth:  A  Sequel  to  Pragmatism,  1909. 

36  The  philosophical  periodicals  of  this  country  and  Eu- 
rope have  been  full  of  articles  and  reviews  supporting  and 
attacking  the  'new  philosophy,'  and  a  number  of  books  have 
been  written  on  the  subject,  among  them  two  by  American 
professors:  Pratt,  What  is  Pragmatism?  and  Schinz,  Anti- 
Pragmatism.  See  my  articles  on  "Philosophy"  in  the  New 
International  Year  Book  of  1908  and  1909. 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  507 

shall  present  his  views  as  expressed  in  his  book 
on  Pragmatism. 

Truth  in  science,  he  declares,  is  what  gives 
us  the  maximum  possible  sum  of  satisfactions, 
taste  included,  but  consistency  both  with  pre- 
vious truth  and  novel  fact  is  always  the  most 
imperious  claimant.  The  'true'  is  only  the 
expedient  in  the  way  of  our  thinking  just  as  the 
right  is  only  the  expedient  in  the  way  of  our 
behaving.  Expedient  in  almost  any  fashion; 
and  expedient  in  the  long  run  and  on  the  whole 
of  course;  for  what  meets  expediently  all  the  ex- 
perience in  sight  won't  necessarily  meet  all 
farther  experience  equally  satisfactorily.  The 
first  part  of  reality  is  the  flux  of  our  sensations. 
Sensations  are  forced  upon  us  coming  we  know 
not  whence.  Over  their  nature,  order,  and 
quantity  we  have  as  good  as  no  control.  They 
are  neither  true  nor  false;  they  simply  are. 
The  second  part  of  reality  is  the  relations  that 
obtain  between  our  sensations  or  between  their 
copies  in  our  minds.  There  are  relations  that 
are  mutable  and  accidental,  as  those  of  date  and 
place;  and  those  that  are  fixed  and  essential  be- 
cause they  are  grounded  on  the  inner  nature 
of  their  terms.  Both  sets  of  relations  are  mat- 
ters of  immediate  perception.  Both  are  'facts.' 
But  the  inner  relations  are  'eternal,'  are  per- 
ceived whenever  their  sensible  terms  are  com- 
pared; and  of  them  our  thought  must  eternally 
take  account.     The  third  part  of  reality  is  the 


508  FRANK  THILLY 

previous  truths  of  which  every  new  inquiry 
takes  account.  We  have  a  certain  freedom  in 
our  dealing  with  these  realities.  That  they  are 
is  beyond  our  control;  but  which  we  attend  to, 
note,  and  make  emphatic  in  our  conclusions 
depends  on  our  interests.  Both  the  sensational 
and  relational  parts  of  reality  are  dumb;  they 
say  absolutely  nothing  about  themselves.  We 
it  is  who  have  to  speak  for  them.  When  we 
speak  of  reality  'independent'  of  human  think- 
ing, it  seems  a  thing  very  hard  to  find.  It  re- 
duces to  the  notion  of  what  is  just  entering  into 
experience  and  yet  to  be  named,  or  else  to  some 
imagined  aboriginal  presence  in  experience,  be- 
fore any  belief  about  the  presence  had  arisen, 
before  any  human  conception  had  been  applied. 
It  is  what  is  absolutely  dumb  and  evanescent, 
the  merely  ideal  limit  of  our  minds.  The  stub- 
born fact  remains  that  there  is  a  sensible  flux, 
but  what  is  true  of  it  seems  from  first  to  last 
largely  a  matter  of  our  own  creation.  On  the 
pragmatist  side  we  have  only  one  edition  of  the 
universe,  unfinished,  growing  in  all  sorts  of 
places,  especially  in  the  places  where  thinking 
beings  are  at  work.  On  the  rationalistic  side 
we  have  a  universe  in  many  editions,  one  real 
one,  the  infinite  folio,  or  edition  de  luxe,  eternally 
complete;  and  then  the  various  finite  editions, 
full  of  false  readings,  distorted  and  mutilated, 
each  in  its  own  way.  Behind  the  bare  phenom- 
enal facts  there  is  nothing.    When  a  rationalist 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  509 

insists  that  behind  the  facts  there  is  the  ground 
of  the  facts,  the  possibility  of  the  facts,  he  takes 
the  mere  name  and  nature  of  a  fact  and  claps 
it  behind  the  fact  as  a  duplicate  entity  to  make 
it  possible. 

Can  we  treat  the  absolute  edition  of  the  world 
as  a  legitimate  hypothesis?  If  the  notion  of  a 
world  ante  rem,  whether  taken  abstractly  like 
the  word  winter,  or  concretely  as  the  hypothe- 
sis of  an  Absolute,  can  be  shown  to  have  any 
consequences  whatever  for  our  life,  it  has  a 
meaning.  If  the  meaning  works,  it  will  have 
some  truth  that  ought  to  be  held  to  through 
all  possible  reformulations,  for  pragmatism. 
The  absolutistic  hypothesis,  that  perfection  is 
eternal,  aboriginal,  and  most  real,  has  a  per- 
fectly definite  meaning,  and  it  works  religiously. 

But  the  pluralistic  way  agrees  with  the  prag- 
matic temper  best.  The  world  is  pluralistically 
constituted,  it  really  exists  distributively  and  is 
made  up  of  a  lot  of  eaches ;  it  can  only  be  saved 
piece-meal  and  de  facto  as  the  result  of  their 
behavior.  Countless  human  imaginations  live 
in  this  moralistic  and  epic  kind  of  universe,  and 
find  its  disseminated  and  strung-along  successes 
sufficient  for  their  rational  needs.  On  prag- 
matic principles,  if  the  hypothesis  of  God  works 
satisfactorily  in  the  widest  sense  of  the  word, 
it  is  true.  Experience  shows  that  it  certainly 
does  work.  The  problem  is  to  build  it  out  and 
determine  it  so  that  it  will  combine  satisfac- 


510  FRANK  THILLY 

torily  with  all  the  other  working  truths.  James 
firmly  disbelieves  that  our  human  experience 
is  the  highest  form  of  experience  extant  in  the 
universe.  We  may  well  believe,  he  declares, 
on  the  proofs  that  religious  experience  affords, 
that  higher  powers  exist  and  are  at  work  to 
save  the  world  on  ideal  lines  similar  to  our  own. 
Pragmatism  can  be  called  religious,  if  you  allow 
that  religion  can  be  pluralistic  or  merely  melior- 
istic  in  type.  But  pragmatism  has  to  post- 
pone dogmatic  answer,  for  we  do  not  yet  know 
certainly  which  type  of  religion  is  going  to 
work  best  in  the  long  run. 

There  is  much  in  this  philosophy  of  James 
that  reminds  one  of  idealism.  The  starting 
point  of  our  knowledge  is  the  flux  of  our  sensa- 
tions, a  sensible  flux,  the  stuff  that  is  furnished 
us  in  the  instant  field  of  the  present,  the  abso- 
lutely dumb  and  evanescent,  the  merely  ideal 
limit  of  our  minds.  This  is  called  pure  expe- 
rience; over  its  nature,  order,  and  quantity  we 
have  no  control;  whence  it  comes  we  know  not, 
but  we  are  told  that  behind  the  bare  phenomenal 
facts  there  is  nothing.  All  this  sounds  like  an 
overture  to  subjective  idealism.  This  is  not 
all,  however.  There  are  also  relations  between 
these  sensations,  both  accidental  and  eternal 
relations  between  these  aboriginal  elements  of 
our  experience;  that  is,  the  sensible  flux  is  an 
ordered  and  related  flux,  and  not  a  chaotic  expe- 
rience.    Then  again  there  are  also  relations  be- 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  511 

tween  the  copies  of  these  sensations  in  our  minds. 
But  both  the  sensational  and  relational  parts 
of  reality  are  dumb ;  they  say  absolutely  nothing 
about  themselves.  At  the  same  time  the  re- 
lations are  matters  of  immediate  perception, 
they  are  facts,  and  the  inner  or  eternal  rela- 
tions are  perceived  whenever  their  sensible  terms 
are  compared.  In  other  words,  we  seem  to  know 
the  relations  and  know  them  as  they  are.  There 
is  a  given  reality  which  we  can  know  as  it  is, 
in  its  eternal  relations.  That  certainly  smacks 
of  objective  idealism.  But  we  are  not  done  yet. 
Relations  among  purely  mental  ideas,  James 
goes  on  to  tell  us,  form  another  sphere  where 
true  and  false  beliefs  obtain,  and  here  the  be- 
liefs are  absolute  or  unconditional.  Truth  here 
has  an  eternal  character.  Our  ready-made 
ideal  frame  work  for  all  sorts  of  possible  ob- 
jects follows  from  the  very  structure  of  our 
thinking.  We  can  no  more  play  fast  and  loose 
with  these  abstract  relations  than  we  can  do 
so  with  our  sense  experience.  They  coerce  us, 
we  must  treat  them  consistently,  whether  or 
not  we  like  the  results.  Our  ideas  must  agree 
with  realities,  be  such  realities  concrete  or 
abstract.  Here  we  come  pretty  close  to  the 
a  priori  categories  of  the  rationalists,  and  our 
suspicions  are  increased  when  we  read  in  James's 
articles  that  these  principles  are  "now  a  part  of 
the  very  structure  of  our  mind"  and  that  they 
have  been  "long  ago  wrought  into  the  struc- 
ture of  our  consciousness." 


512  FRANK  THILLY 

In  the  face  of  all  these  statements  the  prag- 
matic element  in  James's  philosophy  sounds 
innocent  enough,  though  it  may  not  always  be 
consistent  with  them.  Though  "the  stubborn 
fact  remains  that  there  is  a  sensible  flux,  but 
what  is  true  of  it  seems  from  first  to  last  to  be 
largely  a  matter  of  our  own  creation,"  and  though 
"the  world  stands  really  malleable,  waiting  to 
receive  its  final  touches  at  our  hands,"  we  can- 
not play  fast  and  loose  with  it;  there  seems  to  be 
something  absolute  about  it,  and  there  seems 
to  be  something  absolute  about  oar  own  con- 
tribution to  it.  It  is  true,  James  also  sets  up 
expediency  as  the  test  of  truth,  but  the  doctrine 
loses  its  force  when  taken  in  connection  with  all 
that  has  gone  before.  Besides,  to  be  true  a 
truth  must  not  only  work,  it  must  be  consistent 
both  with  previous  truth  and  novel  fact.  Truth 
must  hang  together,  it  must  form  a  system. 
"It  works  because  it  is  true  and  it  is  true 
because  it  works."  Here  too  James  appears 
to  abandon  the  strictly  pragmatic  position, 
or  at  least  to  supplement  it. 

In  his  book  on  The  Meaning  of  Truth,  which 
is  for  the  most  part  a  collection  of  articles 
published  before,  James  explains  the  charge  of 
'subjectism'  as  a  misunderstanding  ot  his 
critics,  and  declares  himself  to  be  an  episte- 
mological  realist.  "My  account  of  truth  is 
realistic,"  he  says,  "and  follows  the  episte- 
mological  dualism  of  common  sense."     "This 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  513 

notion  of  a  reality  independent  of  either  of  us 
[you  or  me],  taken  from  ordinary  social  expe- 
rience, lies  at  the  base  of  the  pragmatist  defini- 
tion of  truth."  "If  the  reality  assumed  were 
cancelled  from  the  pragmatist 's  universe  of 
discourse,  he  would  straightway  give  the  name 
of  falsehoods  to  the  beliefs  remaining,  in  spite 
of  all  their  satis factoriness.  For  him,  as  for 
his  critic,  there  can  be  no  truth  if  there  is  noth- 
ing to  be  true  about.  Ideas  are  so  much  flat 
psychological  surface  unless  some  mirrored 
matter  gives  them  cognitive  lustre.  This  is 
why  as  a  pragmatist  I  have  carefully  posited 
'reality '  ab  initio  and  why,  throughout  my  whole 
discussion,  I  remain  an  epistemological  real- 
ist. "  It  is  not  always  made  perfectly  clear, 
however,  in  James's  account,  just  what  is  meant 
by  'reality;'  in  the  sense  that  there  can  be  no 
knowledge  without  an  object  about  which  that 
knowledge  is,  every  idealist  is  a  realist.  Con- 
fusion has  been  caused  in  the  minds  of  our 
philosopher's  critics  by  their  exaggeration  of 
his  pragmatic  notion  of  truth  and  their 
failure  to  note  that  it  does  not  tell  the  whole 
story.  Our  'satisfactions'  can  yield  objective 
truth  because  '  'the  ideas  which  they  accompany 
'correspond'  to  the  assumed  reality,  'agree' 
with  it,  and  'fit'  it  in  perfectly  definite  and 
assignable  ways',  through  the  sequent  trams 
of  thought  and  action  which  form  their  verifica- 
tion."   For  this  confusion  James  himself  is  not 


514  FRANK  THILLY 

wholly  free  from  blame;  indeed,  the  very  name 
of  'pragmatism,  and  the  undue  emphasis  laid 
upon  the  'cash- value'  of  truth  are  responsible 
for  many  misunderstandings. 

In  Pragmatism,  James's  main  problem  is  the 
criterion  of  knowledge;  in  The  Meaning  of 
Truth,  it  is  the  nature  or  meaning  of  knowledge ; 
in  A  Pluralistic  Universe,  it  is  the  methods  and 
results  of  knowledge.  In  each  work  he  attacks 
what  he  conceives  to  be  the  teaching  of  idealism 
and  offers  his  own  solution  of  the  basal  prob- 
lems :  he  is  a  pragmatist,  a  realist,  a  radical  em- 
piricist, and  a  pluralist.  The  last-named  book 
repudiates  the  aprioristic  or  rationalistic  meth- 
ods and  monistic  conclusions  of  the  idealists, 
and  espouses  the  cause  ol  "pluralistic  empiri- 
cism," which  had  already  been  advocated  in 
Pragmatism.  "The  line  of  least  resistance, 
then,  as  it  seems  to  me,  both  in  theology  and 
philosophy,  is  to  accept,  along  with  the  super- 
human consciousness,  the  notion  that  it  is  not 
all-embracing,  the  notion,  in  other  words,  that 
there  is  a  God,  but  that  he  is  finite,  either  in 
power  or  in  knowledge,  or  in  both  at  once." 
"Reality  may  exist  in  distributive  form,  in  the 
shape  not  of  an  all  but  of  a  set  of  eaches,  just 
as  it  seems  to."  This  world  may  be  "a  uni- 
verse only  strung  along,  not  rounded  in  and 
closed."  The  monistic  or  absolutistic  pantheist 
holds  to  the  timeless  universe  eternally  com- 
plete, the  pluralistic  or  empirical  pantheist  to 
the  unfinished  pluralistic  universe. 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  515 

There  is  no  great  difference  between  James's 
pragmatism  and  Dewey's  functionalism.  Both 
make  practical  consequences,  usefulness,  or 
satisfaction,  or  efficiency,  the  criterion  of  truth, 
and  both  speak  in  somewhat  vague  and  general 
terms  of  this  criterion.  Dewey,  however,  em- 
phasizes the  practical  origin  of  thinking  and 
of  consciousness  in  general;  thought  is  useful 
and  owes  its  existence  to  its  utility,  to  the  fact 
that  it  satisfies  human  needs.  But  he  too  be- 
trays the  influence  of  the  idealistic  school  to 
which  he  formerly  belonged,  by  including  in 
this  satisfaction  an  intellectual  satisfaction  in 
the  harmony  or  unity  of  experience. 

Dewey37  has  been  more  successful  than  any 
other  American  thinker  in  gaining  a  united 
following  for  his  teachings  and  forming  a  philo- 
sophical 'school.'  As  professor  of  philosophy 
and  education  in  the  University  of  Chicago, 
from  which  position  he  was  called  to  Columbia 
University  in  1904,  he  exercised  a  most  stimula- 
ting influence  upon  his  colleagues  and  students, 
prominent  among  whom  were :  Professors  A.  W. 
Moore,38  G.  M.  Mead,  J.  A.  Angell  (who  applies 

37  Psychology,  1886;  Ethics,  1891;  Leibniz's  New  Essays 
Concerning  Human  Understanding,  1886;  Studies  in  Logical 
Theory,  1903;  (with  J.  H.  Tufts)  Ethics,  1908;  How  we  Think, 
1910;  The  Influence  of  Darwin  on  Philosophy,  and  Other 
Essays,  1910. 

38  Articles  in  J.  of  Phil:  "The  Function  of  Thought," 
vol.  iii,  p.  519;  "Truth  Value,"  vol.  v,  p.  429;  in  Phil.  Rev.: 
"Pragmatism  and  its  Critics,"  vol.  xiv,  p.  322;  "Absolutism 
and  Teleology,"  vol.  xviii,  p.  389. 


516  FRANK  THILLY 

the  functionalistic  theory  in  psychology39), 
and  I.  King40  (who  applies  it  in  education  and 
religion).  Professor  J.  H.  Tufts,41  of  Chicago, 
although  he  has  been  influenced  by  the  teach- 
ings of  this  school,  has  never  definitely  committed 
himself  to  them,  and  seems  still  inclined  to 
idealism.  In  the  Studies  in  Logical  Theory, 
which  appeared  in  1903,  Dewey  and  his  adher- 
ents (Miss  Thompson,  MacLennan,  Moore, 
Ashley,  Gore,  Stuart)  have  presented  a  serious 
and  detailed  account  of  the  logical  doctrines 
of  the  new  school.  This  work  is,  as  Professor 
Pringle-Pattison  has  said,  a  striking  evidence 
of  the  moulding  influence  of  Professor  Dewey 
upon  his  pupils  and  coadjutors  in  the  Chicago 
School  of  Philosophy. 

For  Dewey  immediate  experience  is  the  start- 
ing point;  it  is  the  matrix  out  of  which  reflective 
or  logical  thinking  develops  and  into  which  it 
resolves  itself  again.  Immediate  empiricism 
postulates  that  things, — anything,  everything 
in  the  ordinary  or  non-technical  use  of  the  term 
'thing/ — are  what  they  are  experienced  as. 
Thought  is  not  something  pure,  absolute,  or 
by  itself, —  whose  occupation  is  to  mirror  or 


19  Psychology,  1904. 

*°  The  Psychology  of  Child  Development,  1903;  The  Develop- 
ment of  Religion,  1910. 

a  Translator  of  Windelband's  History  of  Philosophy; 
author  of  The  Sources  and  Development  of  Kant's  Teleology, 
1892;  and  (with  John  Dewey)  of  Ethics,  1908. 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  517 

represent  an  independently  complete  and  self- 
existent  world  of  reality, — it  is  a  function  among 
others  arising  in  the  course  of  experience,  and 
has  for  its  sole  purpose  the  transformation,  re- 
construction, or  re-organization  of  experience. 
Thinking  owes  its  origin  to  its  need,  it  arises 
because  and  when  it  is  needed.  Since  knowledge 
appears  as  a  function  within  experience,  and  yet 
passes  judgment  upon  both  the  processes  and 
contents  of  other  functions,  its  work  and  aim 
must  be  distinctively  reconstructive  or  trans- 
formatory.  Since  reality  must  be  defined  in 
terms  of  experience,  judgment  appears  accord- 
ingly as  the  medium,  through  which  the  con- 
sciously effected  evolution  of  reality  goes  on. 
There  is  no  reasonable  standard  of  truth  (or  of 
success  of  the  knowing  function)  in  general,  ex- 
cept upon  the  postulate  that  reality  is  dynamic 
or  self-evolving,  and,  in  particular,  through  ref- 
erence to  the  specific  offices  which  knowing  is 
called  upon  to  perform  in  readjusting  and  ex- 
panding the  means  and  ends  of  life.  There  is 
always  antecedent  to  thought  an  experience  of 
some  subject-matter  of  the  physical  or  social 
world,  or  organized  intellectual  world,  whose 
parts  are  actively  at  war  with  each  other, — so 
much  so  that  they  threaten  to  disrupt  the  entire 
experience,  which  accordingly  for  its  own  main- 
tenance requires  deliberate  re-definition  and  re- 
relation  of  its   tensional  parts.     The  test   of 


518  FRANK  THILLY 

thought  is  the  harmony  or  unity  of  experience 
actually  effected.42 

I  stated  at  the  beginning  of  this  account 
of  the  different  movements  in  American  philo- 
sophical thought  of  to-day,  that  it  was  largely 
a  reaction  against  the  dominant  school  of  ideal- 
ism. But  it  is  plain  that  idealism  is  still  a 
potent  influence  with  us,  that  the  opponents 
of  the  'old  truths'  find  it  hard  to  drive  the  re- 
jected teachings  entirely  out  of  their  blood. 
Some  of  the  objections  urged  against  the  school 
are  based  upon  a  false  conception  of  latter-day 
idealism.43  Nearly  all  the  dissenters  interpret 
it  in  the  sense  of  subjective  idealism:  esse  is 
percipi;  everything  that  is  perceived  is  a  modi- 
fication of  consciousness.  The  new  realists 
reject  this  notion :  for  them  the  object  perceived 
is  not  a  modification  of  consciousness,  but  the 
real  thing;  there  is  an  extra-mental  reality, 
which  either  becomes  directly  aware  of  itself 
in  the  course  of  the  process  of  evolution  or  of 
which  knowing  consciousnesses  become  aware. 
With  much  of  this  the  modern  idealist  can  agree : 
he  too  repudiates  subjective  idealism;  for  him 
too  there  is  an  extra-mental  reality;  but  this 
extra-mental,  super-individual  reality  he  con- 

42  This  account  of  Dewey's  theory  is  drawn  from  the 
Studies  in  Logical  Theory. — The  Ethics  of  Dewey  and  Tufts 
is  a  happy  synthesis  of  evolutionism,  utilitarianism,  and 
the  teachings  of  Thomas  Hill  Green. 

43  See  the  article  by  Professor  E.  H.  Hollands  in  the 
Phil.  Rev.,  vol.  xvii,  no.  5,  on  "Neo-Realism  and  Idealism." 


AMERICAN  PHILOSOPHY  519 

ceives  either,  with  Hegel  and  Green,  as  univer- 
sal reason,  or  less  definitely,  with  the  younger 
thinkers,  as  a  system  of  relations.  And  he  will 
have  no  fault  to  find  with  the  epistemological 
realism  of  the  pragmatist  except  in  so  far  as 
it  seems  to  him  to  degenerate  into  sensationalism 
and  subjectivism.  He  insists  against  pragmatist 
and  realist  alike  that  ' reality's  true  shape'  is  an 
organized  spiritual  system;  whether  he  accepts 
the  label  or  not,  he  is  a  metaphysical  spiritualis- 
tic realist.  He  will  not  admit  the  proposition  of 
the  pragmatist  that  "reality  if  not  irrational 
is  at  least  non-rational  in  its  constitution;" 
for  him  it  is  rational  through  and  through.  It 
is  true,  the  modern  idealist  is  a  moniso;  but  he 
does  not  conceive  his  monism  as  excluding 
pluralism, — as  witness  Green  and  Royce; — 
whether  it  is  logically  possible  or  not,  he  will 
attempt  to  have  them  both. 

As  regards  the  problems  of  the  origin  and 
method  of  knowledge,  we  discover  aprioristic 
and  rationalistic  elements  in  both  pragmatist s44 
and  realists;45  indeed,  we  are  constantly  remind- 
ed of  Kantian  philosophy  in  reading  the  writings 
of  these  men.  James,  to  be  sure,  tells  us46 
that  we  must  go  behind  the  conceptual  function 

44  See  this  article,  pp.  511  f. 

46  See  Taylor's  paper  on  "The  Relations  between  Meta- 
physics and  the  Other  Sciences,"  in  Congress  of  Arts  and 
Sciences,  vol.  i,  pp.  227-245,  and  Woodbridge's  articles  al- 
ready cited. 

46  In  A  Pluralistic  Universe. 


520  FRANK  THILLY 

altogether  and  look  to  the  more  primitive  flux 
of  +he  sensational  life  for  reality's  true  shape, 
and  that  philosophy  is  more  a  matter  of  pas- 
sionate vision  than  of  logic;  but  we  are  told47 
also  that  truth  has  an  eternal  character,  that 
ouv  ready-made  ideal  frame  work  for  all  sorts 
of  possible  objects  follows  from  the  very  struc- 
ture of  our  thinking;  and  these  are  statements 
taken  out  of  the  idealist's  own  month.  As  for 
the  pragmatic  criterion  of  knowledge,  it  has, 
as  I  have  already  pointed  out,  taken  into 
itself  so  much  of  the  idealistic  conception  as  to 
be,  indeed,  in  many  respects,  only  "a  new 
name  for  some  old  ways  of  thinking." 


47 


In  Pragmatism. 


N 


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